Bound
by X.x.Try.Defying.Gravity.x.X
Summary: Jaime's excitement about his new knighthood and his visit to Cersei is interrupted when Cersei learns of their father's plans for Jaime to wed Lysa Tully. Cersei and Jaime have other ideas. (Cersei X Jaime, Pre-GOT)
1. A Band of Good Men

_A/N : Welcome! Here's my second attempt at GOT fanfic. I haven't read very far into Storm of Swords or seen the show (though I'm reading as fast as I can!), so PLEASE don't spoil me in any comments you may leave. This is also cross-posted on other sites. SOS described the majority of the content of this story in Jaime's memory, but I wanted to see them written out and so they are. This will become -slightly- AU at the end but is -mostly- canon compliant. Also, there will be lemons later on, so if that isn't your thing, you'll probably want to avoid the last chapter or so. Please enjoy!_

Chapter One

A Band of Good Men

_Crack!_

Jaime Lannister's gaze snapped to the source of the sound. The dense trees of the Kingswood provided ample cover for the outlaws. For a mere second, he saw the flash of a cloak despite the dense tree cover. Jaime followed without hesitation, his hand on the hilt of his sword ready to give chase. And the flash of cloak was what he had been waiting for as he leapt over a log scattering leaves and pine needles to the ground as he landed, but his footing was sure and steady as he began to duck through the trees as quickly as he could.

Throughout the Kingswood he could hear the sound of other men and knights facing off with the outlaws — the Kingswood Brotherhood. The sounds of the battle were all around him: There was the ringing of steel on steel, the twang of bow strings, the heavy breaths that created puffs of fog in the early morning chill, shouts of victory and cries of defeat, and the footballs and snapping of twigs on the forest floor. It was a conglomeration of sounds that made Jaime nearly giddy, made his blood pump and his mind race. There were two things in the world that made him feel so alive — this and fucking Cersei. Whom, right now, he absolutely could not think about even though his pale cheeks reddened very slightly before he could stop the thought.

He forced his mind back to the present. His companions were brave and bold, some were lords and knights and some were simply good men. But they banded together for a common cause in ending the troubles the Kingswood Brotherhood were causing. And the Brotherhood was causing trouble to be sure. The outlaws had been wreaking havoc throughout this part of Westeros and putting a stop to them was a necessity. Not only had they been stealing and plundering, which might have been overlooked perhaps, but they had an unfortunate habit of kidnapping anyone of noble birth who ran across their path. It had come to a head when they had attacked Princess Elia's escort through the woods. King Aerys, had finally had enough at that and had commanded the Kingsguard to take a contingent of men and destroy the Brotherhood. They were led by Ser Arthur Dayne, whom Jaime looked up to in boyish wide-eyed wonder even though Jaime was fifteen and would be a man grown in a year's time.

To fight with Ser Arthur on the battlefield and see his gifted skills as well as those of these other men including Ser Barristan Selmy was truly a dream come true for Jaime, who had imagined defending the realm from childhood — from the first time a wooden practice sword was put into his hand. And he was a good and strong fighter. He had won his first melee two years before at thirteen against much older and wiser contenders. He could still remember the very near goofy grin on his face when he'd been presented victor that day. 'Gods be good, focus!' This was no time for daydreams or for his mind to wander even for a second. He desperately wanted to prove himself to these men around him.

Jaime was flanked by Selmy and Dayne as the three dashed through the wood. There was no point in sneaking — they could hear their quarry snapping and cracking branches just as loudly as they were. The element of surprise was long gone in this fight. Now, it was down to the swords. Jaime reflected that the catching of this so-called Brotherhood had not been quite so easy as might have been expected for a ragtag group of outlaws.

Much of that had to do with the smallfolk living in the villages that dotted the Kingswood. Ser Arthur had learned that the Brotherhood had turned the smallfolk against them by encouraging their belief that no one protected the smallfolks' rights except the Brotherhood. That had been, Jaime had to admit, shrewd and clever. Then, the villages were willing to aid and abet the Brotherhood, hiding, protecting, and feeding them as needed. With people who knew the villages and woods better than anyone else giving aid, the probability of defeating the Kingswood Brotherhood had actually seemed somewhat bleak.

But Ser Arthur Dayne, as brilliant a mind as he was talented with his sword, figured out the right of it in how to approach the prickly villagers who felt the king didn't actually look after them. Jaime had watched in awe as Arthur won them over one, two, three at a time until whole villages were willing to help. Arthur petitioned the King for more rights for the Smallfolk and, perhaps most importantly, ensured a contract where the royal forces would pay for items taken from the Smallfolk. It had proven to them that the Brotherhood was not as infallible as they believed and that their claim to be the only friend to the villagers was not necessarily accurate. In light of that, the pillaging, kidnapping, and raping had surely seemed less appealing to put up with.

As a result, the tables had turned. The Brotherhood could no longer walk about the forest with impunity and hide easily in the village. Constantly, small skirmishes broke out. There had been some success, but nothing truly meaningful. The men intended to put a stop to that. This morning, Ser Arthur had roused his forces early and caught the Brotherhood just before dawn and had them on the run. Jaime and his companions were becoming more and more used to this section of the woods and were more successful in uncovering its secrets and, thus, its occupants.

Coming from a different direction, preparing to pin in the outlaws in a little clearing, Jaime could see Lord Sumner Crakehall, for whom he'd been four years a squire, closing in. The outlaws would be caught between them and find themselves with swords facing them in every direction.

They converged as the trees suddenly opened into a clearing. Morning light poured down on them from the sky above, highlighting the Sword of the Morning and making him look like some kind of God. 'It is The Warrior in the flesh.' Jaime thought in quiet wonder as he watched Ser Arthur Dayne rush forward without hesitation his sword ringing as his attack was parried instantly, sword glancing off sword. They were outnumbered: Lord Sumner, Ser Arthur, Ser Barristan, and himself — the boy squire, who probably didn't even count as a whole fourth to some, really even if he was _almost_ a man grown. Opposing them were Simon Toyne, two unknown combatants, Big Belly Ben, and — with a sharp intake of breath Jaime recognized the fifth — the Smiling Knight. The man was psychotic — cruelty and chivalry all jumbled up together and seemed not to know the meaning of fear. The Knight wore a half helm under which a wicked, sadistic smile was written; it was that smile that had earned him the name he carried as a banner.

For barely a second, Jaime paused in shock at the reality of his situation with legends all around him, but his body moved for him even so, almost reflexively after a lifetime of lessons at the blade. He wasn't sure if more fear (would a true man grown be afraid? He wasn't sure) or excitement coursed through his blood. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He charged forward noting Barristan, Sumner, and Arthur doing the same to all sides of him.

The ring of swords on shields and armor echoed through the clearing. As they grappled, the sound of grunts and gasps were mixed in with the clangor of the metal. Jaime hissed as one of the men he didn't know nearly sliced a gash into his leg, but he pivoted away just in time and plunged forward with a return attack that felt twice as fierce. The adrenaline was different from a melee. There, no matter how real the swords, the point of a melee was for sport. This… this was for death. Again the opponent went for his legs, but Jaime was ready this time, sword low as he blocked the blow and thrust back a return. The trees and clearing whirled around him in a blur as he moved, turned, thrust, sliced. Jaime watched for the slightest opening and took it, slamming forward with all his weight behind his sword, but the blow came back in kind, striking hard on his shoulder, and pain exploded through his sword arm. His sword stayed in his hand. Now, his opponent was backing him toward the trees, trying to corner him. Jaime swore and leapt away, refusing to let himself be cornered. He saw the huge hulk of Big Belly Ben go to the ground. Blood ran, staining the grass in no short supply. Jaime wasn't entirely sure where all of it was coming from. How much belonged to them and how much to the Brotherhood?

The attack came from behind faster than he could anticipate; white hot pain seared through his body as Jaime pivoted just in time for the sword to come down, smashing his helm into his face. He wasn't able to recover before the sword came again and this time it slashed flesh with such a heavy blow that Jaime staggered. A third blow knocked him off his feet, and the ground came up hard and fast to meet him. He tasted blood, sweat, and mud all at once. To his horror, he realized his assailant was none other than the Smiling Knight himself.

"What have you sent me Ser Arthur? Is this the best you can do? This is a boy not a man!" The Smiling Knight's hollow laugh echoed across the clearing.

A hot rage burned through Jaime as his cheeks flushed with anger. He was no little boy! He seized the opportunity and rolled out of the way, leaping to his feet faster than he knew possible and bolted forward, slashing at the knight. 'I'll give you something to smile about. I'll open your throat in a smile!' He seethed.

"Not going to come defend your _boy_? _Ser_ Arthur?" the Smiling Knight sneered. Jaime didn't like the crass way he emphasized the ser on Arthur Dayne's name — as if it was a jest. And he liked even less being called 'boy.' 'I'm a lion of Lannister, not a boy!'

Arthur did not deign to get caught up in the verbal exchange, but he turned his head away — just for a second — from his own battle to check Jaime who was, miraculously, holding his own against the mad man. He exchanged blow for blow and some of them, to his excitement, were not blocked fast enough. At first, the Smiling Knight had batted his sword away with almost lazy parries, but Jaime was fighting even harder now with every ounce of adrenaline that coursed through his veins. A particularly vicious thrust slipped into a gap between the Knight's armor, and a rain of blood spattered the ground. It was no fatal wound, but Jaime practically _grinned_ to see it. Jaime came at him again before the Knight had time to recover from his shock, gouging his sword into another gap. Their eyes met — the Smiling Knight's were steel grey, cold and icy while Jaime's burned emerald and angry. For just one second, Jaime saw fear in those cold, grey eyes. And he liked it.

Before he could land another blow, a third sword joined their fight and Ser Arthur was there sliding between them and parrying the Smiling Knight's sword with a forceful ringing of metal and a blow of astounding force. There was a slight sense of relief in some way. Jaime was talented, but he was no seasoned fighter. His body was shaking with both adrenaline and exhaustion — and pain. The Smiling Knight had opened his skin more than once, and some of the wounds were deep.

The two moved so fast their swords were a blur. Then, there was a sickening, indescribable, metallic crunch, and the Smiling Knight's sword splintered in two at the middle. Jaime nearly gaped to see it. It was one thing for a lance in a joust to snap, but a sword was quite another matter. To his shock, Ser Arthur stopped, his sword raised, but he did not bring it down. He waited for the Smiling Knight to draw a second sword. Ser Arthur Dayne would not fight unfairly. There was a kind of goodness in Ser Arthur that Jaime did not know if he would ever posses, for he knew he would have dealt a killing blow in that opening.

"That sword matters little enough. It is Dawn I want."

"Then you shall have it, Ser." The Sword of the Morning responded, slashing forward as Dawn ripped into flesh rather than armor. Like as not, it wasn't what the man had meant when he said he wanted Dawn. The thought brought a slight hint of a smirk to Jaime's face. One more slash and this time it was The Smiling Knight's lifesblood bubbling up through his lips and nose in the seconds before he fell.

Before he could react to the fight between Ser Arthur and the Smiling Knight, something caught his peripheral vision and made his lips part in horror, though he suddenly found himself unable to shout. Big Belly Ben had Lord Sumner on the ground, pinned against the trees. The amount of blood was startling, and Jaime did not know from which man it came. He lunged as silent as the big cat he was, crossing the distance in barely a few strides. He interrupted the killing strike, his sword ringing off Big Belly Ben's with a crash of steel that made his teeth smash together and more blood fill his mouth, though the worst was to Big Belly Ben. Jaime pressed the attack hard forward even as blood filled his mouth and his cracked lip and chin opened afresh. He could feel skin tearing and the hideous rip of flesh as Big Belly Ben caught him. He wasn't sure if the liquid on his face was sweat, tears, blood or all three at once, but he was determined now. He _would_ do this thing.

Somehow, Jaime's sword left his hand as Big Belly Ben, in all his hugeness, came bellowing forward, grabbing at Jaime with hands the size of meat cleavers. The pain radiated through every one of his bones at the force with which the two men hit the ground. Ben's sword was out of his hands too, thank the Seven, or it would have been done in an instant. Jaime squirmed beneath the giant of a man, fighting to reach his sword. He extended his fingers so far his hand ached, but the hilt was a finger's breadth away and he could not reach it, try as he might, so hard was Ben holding him to the ground — but neither could Ben get his own sword without letting up on Jaime. They struggled. Jaime was lean and muscular, but Big Belly Ben had got his name for a reason and pound for pound he must be almost double Jaime's weight and size.

Jaime looked for and found weakness. He slammed his foot up into Ben's lower leg which had been bleeding profusely. The man let out a sound not quite a groan and not quite a cry, and it bought Jaime the purchase he needed — an instant with which to tear from the big man's grasp. But then Jaime realized he must turn his back to reach the sword and he knew as soon as he had done it that it was a grievous mistake. The ground came up to meet him once more and there was grass in his mouth, but his hand was still clenched around the hilt of his sword. He spat red as pulsing pain reverberated through him. But, still, he did not yield. He staggered to his feet faster than he would have believed he could. His quick, silent movement — again like the Lion he was — took Big Ben by surprise. Jaime struck with fierce tenacity at Big Ben's sword hand.

He could feel that the blow would strike true before it actually did. Jaime's eyes blazed with passion and fierce determination. Big Belly Ben managed to keep his hand, but the strike caused him to lose his blade again, cracking into his arm with a harsh finality, and Jaime knew it was done. The arm looked mangled, maybe broken, and there was bone through skin. Big Belly Ben, too, seemed to realize he was done. He left his sword and, before Jaime could strike him with a final blow, turned and disappeared into the trees with startling speed for such a huge man.

Jaime made to go after him but jumped when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. "Leave him. We'll catch up with him soon enough." It was Ser Arthur Dayne. Jaime was panting hard but Ser Arthur was barely breathing heavily. "Well done, lad."

Jaime flushed with pride. Then, he looked around them to realize that the fight was finished. Their foes lay dead on the ground save Big Belly Ben and one captive who had been taken; likely, he'd be sent off to take the Black. The rest of the contingency had emerged through the trees at some point, though Jaime hadn't seen them come. Their small band of men were mostly accounted for, though in various states of injury or lack thereof, he realized counting them. They were battered, bruised, and bloody, but it had been a victory.

Lord Sumner was the first to break the silence, which seemed too loud in Jaime's ears after the clangor of battle. "I owe you a debt, Jaime. You saved my life."

Jaime wriggled almost uncomfortably under the praise as Barristan Selmy joined them. His face was quite red now indeed. Somehow, pride felt misplaced when these legends he had idolized his entire life were giving it to _him_. Had he really done something so remarkable and deserving of lauding from these men? He looked to Lord Sumner and smiled even though his beleaguered lip ached fiercely when he did it. "It's only the right of it, My Lord. I am your squire, after all."

"So you are. I suppose we'll need to see to that."

"Ser?" Jaime asked, confused.

"It seems to me that today you acted the part of a knight rather than a squire," Lord Sumner said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Jaime's heart swelled and, in that moment, he felt so light he thought he might be able to take wing and fly. "Did I?" He asked, his face glowing with excitement. Suddenly, his injuries seemed minor and not to bother him so much at all, though that was likely the exhilaration of the moment talking. Some of the injuries would need tending. Nonetheless, every boy from a page on up dreams about the day he'll be granted his spurs, and Jaime was no exception. With a slight hesitance, he looked around the company of men, all of whom were at least a few years — if not a great deal more — older than he was. But no one spoke up to disagree and most were actually nodding and smiling.

"Indeed." Lord Sumner said, his blue eyes warm and merry even through the mud and blood on his face.

"If I may have the honor, Sers?" Arthur Dayne asked looking at Barristan Selmy and Sumner Crakehall in turn. Ser Arthur Dayne thought it would be an honor to knight him? Jaime felt as if his face would break if he grinned any wider. His heart was pounding all over again as he watched the other two men step back slightly leaving Ser Arthur and Jaime in the center of what quickly became a circle of men and Ser Arthur slipped Dawn from her scabbard, holding her at his side.

"Clearly, we don't have to ask Jaime if he's ready," one of the men of the company jested. "He's split his lip smiling."

Sure enough, Jaime reached up to brush once more fresh blood off his mouth, but only managed to smile wider. It would hurt later, but he could not have cared less.

"That was the work of the Smiling Knight, whom this young lad fought very bravely," Ser Arthur announced to all, which led to murmured approvals and nods. He turned to Jaime next. "Are you ready, Jaime?"

"Yes, ser," He said. A solemn but warm atmosphere seemed to have descended around the circle of men. Jaime felt it inside himself too. He had imagined thousands of times by now how he would feel when he finally was knighted, but it was better than even his imagination's fancies. One thing he hadn't expected was the sober, heavy feeling in his chest — as if a mantle of responsibility was being placed across his shoulders. He supposed it was true. The joy was more powerful than expected also. The only thing that could possibly have made the moment better was if Cersei had been there with him. The tiniest hint of regret that she would miss this passed over him, but there was no doubt in him that this was the right time and place. He would tell her everything later — when he saw her again.

Jaime sunk to his knees on the grass before Ser Arthur and bowed his head, heart pounding in his throat.

"Jaime of House Lannister," Ser Arthur began solemnly, touching Jaime's right shoulder with Dawn. The sword felt surprisingly heavy on Jaime's shoulders — heavier than pure metal should be. "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave." He moved Dawn to Jaime's left shoulder. "In the name of the Father I charge you to be just." Dawn touched his right shoulder again and a shiver rippled up Jaime's spine. "In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and the innocent." With each charge, the Sword of the Morning touched one of his shoulders. "In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women. In the name of the Smith I charge you to remain steadfast. In the name of the Crone I charge you to accept wise counsel. In the name of the Stranger I charge you never to forsake these vows and to uphold them until the end of your days." It was so quiet one could hear even the slightest movement of the trees around them.

"Will you, before the Seven and these good men, accept these charges as your sacred vows?"

For some reason he could not explain, the emotion swelled inside him until Jaime felt like he might cry, though his voice was strong and true. "I will."

Jaime's green eyes met Ser Arthur's violet ones for just a moment and saw warmth reflected back at him in the older man's gaze. "Therefore, on the acceptance of these vows, I create you Ser Jaime Lannister."

As Ser Arthur raised Jaime to his feet, the silence broke and cheers and congratulations rained over him like a summer storm.

Jaime had left Crakehall a boy squire, but he would return to Casterly Rock a knight of the realm.

_AN: If you're still with me, thank you SO much for reading. If you have time, please leave a review as they help my muse! Hopefully a second chapter will be up within a few days. All the best!_


	2. Not What I Wanted

Chapter II

Not Want I Wanted

Being apart from Jaime, save his occasional visits to Casterly Rock, for the past four years since he had gone to squire for Lord Sumner Crakehall had been perhaps the single hardest thing Cersei Lannister had ever had to endure. It was even more miserable after the first year. Then, her Lord Father had taken her to King's Landing, and then it was even rarer that their visits to Casterly rock overlapped. They did occasionally when Tywin wanted to see Jaime about one thing or another. Unfortunately, during this the few visits that did overlap, Father and Jaime were usually shut up in Father's solar for hours on end. It made finding time alone together incredibly difficult, to say the least.

Cersei could only imagine how much Jaime had detested those meetings. Jaime had never been one for politics, discussing Tywin's work as the hand of the King, going over all the minutiae Jaime would need to know because he was the heir to Casterly Rock. It wasn't that these things weren't important — and Jaime recognized that — but his patience for doing it was rather short. He would much rather be training at swords and making battle plans even without any war at present.

Sometimes, Cersei had to wonder if Jaime would cause a war just to have the chance to fight in it. He told her, one day when he was home from Crakehall a year or so before, about how he felt when he fought in combat, squiring for Lord Sumner. The memory remained one of her favorites.

_They lay together in the soft grass of the Godswood, in a place well sheltered by trees where they wouldn't be easily come-upon. Jaime had come to find her after Septa Morgaine had fallen asleep at her sewing, as if he knew it would happen and was simply waiting for it. He'd finally, after hours and hours escaped his father under the pretense of laying down to rest before dinner that night. Then, they had come to the Godswood. It had somehow become their place because few people ever ventured there as opposed to the Sept, so they could be reasonably sure they were unlikely to be disturbed. _

_Now, they lay tangled, not bothering or even wanting to separate their bodies, skin still rosy from their love-making. Thrice. There was a pleasant ache in Cersei's loins. The first had been feverish and desperate with the ripping of clothes and knocking of mouths and the need to have Jaime inside her as fast as possible; the second had been long and not rushed and they gave every kind of pleasure to each other; the third had been soft, slow, and gentle as he held her back against his chest, warm in his arms, and entered her from behind — Cersei liked that because he was able to get deeper inside her and find that special place that sent her wild — and rocked their bodies gently and slowly together. Every one had been beautiful and perfect. _

_She knew both of them felt, at least temporarily, blissful and sated. They lay chest to chest with her legs around him their bodies flush together as Jaime an his fingers through Cersei's hair the way he loved to do. Cersei felt complete, content, and perfectly happy in that moment, wanting for nothing at all. He spoke quietly, almost dreamily as he held her against him. "You know, the two times that I feel really and truly alive are when I'm with you like this and when I'm fighting. Both things, it's as if they make my very blood sing. It's as if I could do anything in that moment, and I am so happy and complete, wanting for nothing. Fighting brings me a sense of.. Doing something that matters, of strength and courage and valor. And you, you bring me joy I never knew was possible." He breathed softly to her. "And I love you to the depth and breadth of my soul." And then he caught her mouth and kissed her and kissed her until she was dizzy. _

Cersei snapped out of her daydream when she heard voices near her and recognized one voice as her father and one she did not know. She had been trying to content herself with visiting the river walk. Cersei's days were dull now that she couldn't switch places with Jaime and do anything 'fun' — the days were filled with boring, tedious lessons with Septa Morgaine. Accordingly, she'd been walking along the river walk, and thought she was alone until she had heard her father speak. She looked about but didn't see him — but there was no doubt he was also on the River Walk.

It was likely Cersei would have simply gone on her way except a word caught her attention just as she was turning to head back to the Red Keep. 'Dower' Cersei froze, green eyes widening and froze in place. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. It had happened then. Her father was arranging a match for her. Cersei had known he'd do it eventually — after all, why else had he brought her to King's Landing if not for people to look at her and think about how they would like to take her to wife. But perhaps she'd been fooling herself to hope it would be longer before he did it. Cersei grimaced. She was in love with Jaime and did not want anyone else — not that she'd have any say in the matter. Would that she could marry Jaime or no one at all and spend her days with him. It was folly and completely impossible, but that didn't mean she didn't long for it or dream about it. And she was always sad when she woke to find it really was just a dream.

"Ah yes that matter is indeed important, and there are other matters in addition to be settled. Let us retire to my solar and we can discuss the matter over some wine and food."

"That sounds excellent, my Lord. Lead the way."

And when the stranger spoke those words, Cersei somehow came out of her shock enough for her feet to move. And she did move. She turned and headed for the serpentine steps — the opposite direction her father's voice had come from. Cersei dashed down the steps, skirts in her hand to keep them out of the way. She probably had, to judge by the distance of the voices, barely a minute's lead on her father. She had to get off the stairs and out of sight before he started down them! Cersei reached the bottom of the steps and looked behind her, heart pounding in her throat. She didn't see her father yet, thank the seven. He was strolling and she'd been running, though, so perhaps she'd increased the distance between them.

She crossed the lower bailey at as close to a run as she could manage without arising alarm or notice. She ran between the sept and the library, making for the Tower of the Hand as quickly as she could. She ran up the stairs, up and up until she reached her father's Solar, burst in and closed the door behind her. She would have to find a place to hide and quickly. And it had to be perfect. Gods forbid Tywin Lannister find her eavesdropping on him during a private conversation in his solar. Cersei shuddered just to imagine how he would react.

Cersei looked desperately about the room. She thought for half a second about her father's desk, but if he should come to sit at it for any reason — such as to draw up paperwork, she would be discovered. Then, she looked at the window with the seat along it. It was a pleasant place to sit and look out, but it was nearly sunset and the curtains had been pulled closed. Not a second too soon, Cersei dashed behind the curtains and into the corner of the seat, drawing her legs to her knees — as if making herself tiny would somehow lessen her chances of being discovered. She knew she was playing a dangerous game indeed, but she simply couldn't help herself. If her father was going to make arrangements for her to wed, she _would _know of them immediately.

It was less than two minutes, though seemed hours, before Cersei heard the door open again to admit her father and whomever he was talking to. The curtains had the distinct disadvantage that she could see nothing. But, she could hear and eventually she'd riddle out everything. She tried to remind herself that there was no way they could hear her pounding heart, loud in her ears and hurting her chest. She had to force herself to take slow, deep, silent breaths rather than panting from her run.

She heard the two men sit at the table and, just as they did, one of her father's men entered. "Shall I bring your supper, My Lord?" asked the man.

"Indeed. A fine idea. And please bring Lord Hoster and myself some of that excellent arbor red wine as well."

Cersei's green eyes widened in the shadows behind the curtain. Hoster Tully? There was no doubt. Gods be good! Edmure was younger than Cersei and Brynden 'Blackfish' was an old man! All right, he wasn't an old man, but he was near 40 compared to Cersei's 15. What was her father doing?! Cersei's jaw clenched and she closed her eyes. She did not want to marry a child or an old man. She did not want to marry _anyone_. But this… To Cersei's shock she felt burning in her eyes — the kind that comes right before tears. When they fell she swiped them furiously. Cersei Lannister hated to cry — it made her feel weak.

How far she'd apparently fallen in value. She bit down on her cheek hard.

"_Come here, Cersei. I want to speak of something with you." _

_The little girl tilted her head and went to sit where her father bid. Generally, even at such a tender age as they were, it was Jaime their Lord Father wanted to talk to, not Cersei. "Yes, Father." She said once she had been seated. A tiny part of her felt a bit important that he _did_ want to talk to her and not just Jaime. She would have to tell Jaime all about this later on, she decided. _

"_Did you enjoy when we visited King's Landing for the Anniversary Tournament?" he asked. _

_Cersei nodded quickly. She had enjoyed King's Landing. She and Jaime had run all over the Red Keep exploring every nook and cranny "Yes, Father!" _

"_Would you like to live there someday?" _

_Cersei nodded in excitement. She was so excited that she could, in fact, barely stay in her seat and her green eyes were glowing prettily. "Yes!" She could only imagine how much fun she and Jaime could have in the Red Keep if they lived there and got to stay there forever! She couldn't wait to tell Jaime all about this because Cersei had learned that when her father spoke, his words were as good as prophecy. What Tywin Lannister said happened and that was how it was. She knew that already at only six. _

"_Then one day you shall." Tywin said with a pleased expression. He had thought his daughter might dislike the notion given that she was very close with her twin, and he'd be here as the heir to Casterly Rock. Sometimes he had wondered if Cersei and Jaime were too reliant on one another in some way. After all, Cersei did not get on with little Tyrion that way. But this showed that his fears were for naught. _

"_How, Father?" Cersei asked, curiously. _

"_I'm going to make a match for you with Prince Rhaegar. And, one day, you will be Queen." _

_Cersei's eyes widened to the size of trenchers and her mouth made a little O and she found herself bouncing up and down in her chair a bit. Oh! How much fun she and Rhaegar and Jaime could have! They would be the best of friends and play together all of the time! And then the O was replaced by a very big grin. _

"_I thought you would like that." Tywin said, allowing for a brief moment of affection to brush his daughter's golden curls from her face and behind her ear. "But. You must not say anything to anyone until the betrothal is made official." _

"_Yes Father, I won't!" — Except Jaime of course, but Jaime didn't count and he'd be excited to go to live at King's Landing. Of course, they'd probably have to take the stupid baby with them, Cersei wrinkled her nose. She hated that baby. But she could just command him never to see her when she was Queen. She would be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms _

Of course that was not how it had turned out at all. Aerys had refused the betrothal proposal, making Tywin furious at the slight. Cersei still remembered the black, mercurial mood that had fallen over all of Casterly Rock when it happened. Tywin had devoted two decades of service as Aerys' hand and it was well within reason to think the reward for his loyal service would be a betrothal, especially since the Lannister family was well-born, rich, and powerful. It was an ideal match really, but still Aerys had refused.

'And now how far I've fallen. I wonder which it is… the child or the old man Father has chosen for me.' Cersei thought, bitterly.

But then the conversation between the two men, which Cersei had been paying attention to as best she could despite being wrapped up in memories, took a turn Cersei hadn't expected.

"We were so pleased to receive Jaime at River Run these two years ago. I believe he and Lysa got along wonderfully. They sat be each other at dinner every night for the entire two weeks, and Jaime was so kind with my sweet daughter. He walked with her in the gardens a good deal. I daresay he's already fitting in with the Tullys quite well — he seemed fond of my brother and wanted to know all about his glories at war. And I believe Lysa would enjoy Casterly Rock and life there very much. It is lovely by the Sunset sea."

And then, Cersei realized. 'The betrothal isn't for me. It's for Jaime! To Lysa Tully." The shock of it, in fact, nearly made her give herself away and she managed, only barely, to get her hand over her mouth to hide the gasp of shock. Suddenly her stomach felt sick. It felt like she was rolling on a ship on the Sunset Sea in a gale. Sweat broke out all over her body and she struggled to breathe. No! Mother have mercy, no!

Cersei didn't want to think about the match her father would make for her and that would like as not be coming soon enough, but the idea of Jaime marrying so soon made her feel absolutely sick. It wasn't uncommon for boys to marry later. Cersei had thought that Jaime would have time to enjoy being a squire and, eventually, a knight going off to battles before he was tied down with a… a wife. The thought of Jaime doing to another woman — to Lysa Tully! — The things that he did to her made Cersei nearly mad with jealousy and fury. Jaime was hers and would never be Lysa Tully's! Never! And if Jaime was off fighting, he could easily visit her at King's Landing once he had his knighthood and no longer had to live at Crakehall. And that might happen as soon as a year or two. Cersei had so looked forward to the time when Jaime would be free to visit her here whenever he liked and it was going to be soon… but if he was wed to Lysa and tied down with her at Casterly Rock and Cersei was here… how would they ever see one another? Her chest squeezed so tight she could barely breathe. The panic rising inside her felt like a living thing, some sort of monster within her, writhing and growling, and threatening to _destroy_ her. She had to bite her tongue so hard it bled to make herself be silent and not cry out. She buried her head between her knees to keep quiet her ragged breathing.

It seemed a literal lifetime, though Cersei knew it wasn't of course, before her father and Hoster Tully agreed to all the terms of the contract. At least, maybe that was what they were doing. Cersei had had trouble listening to anything else they discussed now that she knew the arrangement was for Jaime. It had been like a hive of bees was buzzing inside her mind. No, no, no! Jaime wouldn't want this would he? He was Cersei's and they were going to find a way to be together again. They spoke of it every time they both managed to be at Casterly Rock. Every time they were together they spoke of how one day before too long, they wouldn't have to be apart so much anymore. This would ruin _everything_.

Cersei could not escape from behind the window until Lord Tywin left the solar, hours later. She felt so sick. She needed to find Jaime. She needed to talk to Jaime and they needed to do something. She needed to find him. She didn't know how she would do it. She could send a bird to Crakehall, but what if Jaime or, worse, Lord Sumner reached out to Tywin instead of Cersei. It was a risk she wasn't sure she could take.

Finally, realizing that Septa Morgaine would be looking for her and would likely seek out her Lord Father if she didn't find Cersei soon, she returned to her chambers where she promptly received a scolding about disappearing for hours. Cersei barely heard the words. "Child… are you all right?" Septa Morgaine asked and Cersei realized that she must have been asking questions before that or at least noticed that Cersei was… not paying any attention. "You look ill." Septa Morgaine said noting Cersei's pale cheeks and clammy forehead. "Is it your moon-blood?"

Of course it wasn't, but Cersei nodded anyway. Maybe she'd be allowed to stay in bed if Septa Morgaine thought she was feeling ill from bleeding. "Come, let's get you into bed and I'll get you some tea and some warm herbs to put on your belly." Septa Morgaine said, leading Cersei off to bed. Cersei was glad to let herself be borne away. It was all too much. And she had no way to find Jaime — no safe way. Everything was hopeless.

Cersei didn't know how it happened, but she fell into a fitful sleep in which she had nightmares about never seeing Jaime again, never being with him again. And when she woke she felt even worse than when she'd fallen asleep. The moon was bright through the windows of her bedchamber and Septa Morgaine was no where to be seen. It must be the middle of the night. With a slightly clearer head and a renewed desperation, Cersei knew she needed to find Jaime. There was nothing she could do tonight except… maybe…

She rose and dressed. The moon was so bright she didn't need a candle as she snuck quietly through the passages and out of the Tower of the Hand, avoiding any eyes that might have noticed her. She crossed the Red Keep on bare feet and went silently into the Sept, which was dark save the few candles that were left burning at all hours. To her relief, it was deserted. Cersei didn't honestly know what she was doing there. She had never set much store by faith in any Gods. Certainly, she prayed and sang the songs and… did.. All the things she should, but sometimes she wondered if the Gods were truly there. It wasn't to say she didn't believe in them at all.. She just simply wasn't sure. But right now she had no other ideas and felt powerless.

Taking a deep breath, she took a candle and lit it from one of the tapers that glowed always. She took her softly glowing candle and knelt in front of the statue of the mother, putting the candle in the place it was meant to go between the statue's feet. Cersei could not remember the last time she had visited a Sept outside of a formal service and it had been even longer since she had knelt at the feet of the Mother.

She swallowed. Then she whispered, "Mother, if you're there. Please.. Help me find Jaime."

AN: As always, thanks for reading! Please review if you have time.


	3. Best Laid Plans

A/N: Another chapter. This one absolutely contains lemons and a rating update. Whoops. Sorrynotsorry. Finally Cersei and Jaime are reunited! Thank you to LadyKatherine29 and a kind Guest for leaving reviews for me. Enjoy!

Chapter III

Best Laid Plans

The atmosphere of the great hall of the Red Keep was bustling and full of jolly celebration. A great feast had been laid before them; wine, mead, and ale flowed as freely as the Trident; singers and fools worked the rounds of the room playing harps, singing and juggling; and the din of voices all talking excitedly made for an atmosphere that made Cersei happy, a smile tugging constantly at the corners of her mouth. She had a glass of wine in her hand from which she was taking small sips and watching the revelry around her, feeling quite content. She tore the wing off of a capon and chewed it and then sucked the marrow from the bones very delicately, not making a mess in the least — barely even dirtying her fingers in fact.

Queen Rhaella had decided to throw a grand feast after news of the defeat of the Kingswood Brotherhood had reached her via a Raven from Ser Arthur Dayne. Everyone was in a cheerful mood tonight — even the usually paranoid King was laughing and talking and making merry. And, Cersei realized, her father was in a good humor as well. And she hated him for it right now, for she knew the reason. It took all of Cersei's willpower not to confront her father and scream at him and hit him. He was ruining _everything_. Though Hoster Tully had departed two days past — before the raven had come — , fury still burned in Cersei's belly like the dragon flames on the banner of House Targaryen. She truthfully could not remember a time she had been more angry.

He would make Cersei even more separated from Jaime. She had thought maybe their separation would be coming to an end. Surely he would not be a squire too many more years as gifted as he was with sword and lance. After that, they could find a way to be together even if it was just secretly. And now her father would, with one seal of a ring on a piece of parchment, wreck it all. It was like a petulant child smashing down a tower of wooden blocks. Cersei wanted to knock down _his_ tower and see how he liked getting a taste of his own medicine — but she could no more do that than fly.

Even with this dark turn of events, though, a part of her could not help but be soothed and pleased by the feasting and partying going on all around her. Her father might have hoped Rhaegar's bride would die in her childbed, but Cersei had no such ill feelings. Would she wish to be married to a crown prince? Perhaps for the power. At one point she'd been delighted at the prospect of wedding Prince Rhaegar when she was a little girl, but that was a long time ago. Elia had never incited Cersei's jealousy. There was, after all, someone else her heart belonged to.

The longer she could put off a marriage, the more time they might be together. Now, though, it appeared she'd be fending off marriage proposals not just for herself but, to her fresh horror, for Jaime too. 'Why of course. That is just like Father. There hasn't been a Lady of Casterly Rock since Mother died.' Cersei thought. Since Tyrion had killed her. She grit her teeth and took a deep breath, determined not to let any of these things ruin her evening. It had been lovely thus far, and there was nothing she could do at the present moment about any of the situations she needed to rectify, so she might as well enjoy the events of the night as thoroughly as possible.

Suddenly, there was a great eruption of noise, excitement, fervor, and cheering. Cersei could not imagine what was going on until she looked to the entrance of the great hall and saw, to her utter shock and joy, what she initially thought must be a dream or a fantasy — Jaime. Well, not just Jaime. The entirety of the Kingsguard along with several other knights and Lords as well. But Jaime! Her stomach flip-flopped. The Mother had heard her… the knowledge shocked Cersei who had never felt that it made sense to ask a God for anything. You had to do things for yourself if you wanted them done. But here he was!

He was a vision with a Lannister cloak about his shoulders and fine breeches and doublet of red and black with gold trim and braid. His hair, that color of molten gold she loved so well, hung just below his collar and his green eyes scanned the room lively and happy. Cersei had to physically make a point of planting her feet onto the ground to keep from going running across the room and throwing herself into Jaime's arms. She might have been able to play it off as a sibling excited to see him return from battle, but she needed to be wary. Lord Tywin was always watching, always observing and putting the observations to good use. No, Cersei decided, much as she wanted to run to Jaime's arms, she could not do it. It made her heart ache not to be able to go to him.

Nonetheless, Jaime's verdant eyes caught hers and she instantly felt her stomach leap. All he had to do was look at her with his mouth pulled into a smirk and Cersei's face flushed as she realized, to her horror, just the way he was looking at her would make her wet if she gave it much thought. Gods be good! Sometimes, when desperate, she tried to pleasure herself and imagine it was Jaime's hands on her, but it never produced quite the same effect. She bit the inside of her lips and their eyes stayed in contact. His mouth pulled up even more and his green eyes smoldered. She had the distinct feeling that Jaime knew exactly what she was thinking and her cheeks flushed to pinpoints of red that she would surely blame on the wine. They were two parts of a whole and there was no doubt that Jaime knew his twin well enough to guess what was going through her mind. But Cersei knew that it wasn't any less in his own.

And she was right. Jaime looked to his sister sitting on the dais not far from their father and had to take some very deep breaths and think about anything -anything- besides Cersei or he was going to wind up getting hard right here and now. He thought of polishing his armor. It was the most mundane thing he could think of to fill his head. But when he saw the color rise in Cersei's cheeks and the way she was biting her lip, it threatened to undo him. He needed to get her alone. How he'd be able to manage that, he was unsure. He'd accepted Ser Arthur's invitation to join him at Court for a little while before returning to Casterly Rock. He could not tell the man the level of thanks he had for that excuse to come to King's Landing indeed. But Cersei was surrounded by people and would likely be all night. So, too, would he be until the feast's conclusion well into the wee hours of the morning. After all, Ser Arthur told him, "they're celebrating our victory." Normally, Jaime would have enjoyed the feast, but right now he just wanted Cersei. It had been months since he'd been able to see her — months too long. Every day apart from her was agony he didn't know how to bear, and he knew she felt it too.

He would have to bide his time and find the proper moment. With the wine flowing freely, he might eventually be able to escape under the pre-text of seeking out some girl or other. After all, he had no vows to remain chaste purely because he was a knight. He was no Kingsguard. And his companions had been teasing him mercilessly all the way back to King's Landing about if he had taken a woman yet. 'Now that you're a man grown, a knight, you should bed a woman!" Jaime had feigned embarrassment about the coy chuckles, the color rising in his cheeks. But he thought inside himself 'I have already had a woman. I have had her all the days of my life and even before, and she is all I shall ever want.' Of course, that was not something that could be even hinted at in the slightest. But he had no intention of taking some other woman and would just put them off this way or that, non-comittally refusing to tell them whether or no he actually had bedded a woman.

He had thought he might be able to snatch a second, even a touch of the hand, with Cersei when he went up to the dais to say hello to his father, but, instead, Tywin came down to him and spoke of how he'd heard of Jaime's good news and how proud he was of him. Jaime wondered if Cersei knew because, really, that was the person he wanted to share his excitement about his new Knighthood with. Who else would he want to share it with? He loved Cersei. And so he bided his time.

Finally, everyone in the Great Hall seemed distracted, full, and drunk enough that he gauged it safe to move across to Cersei without looking as if it were anything in particular. "Sister." He said as he greeted her, but there was a tone to his voice that was never there except when it was for Cersei — it was a tone like warm honey. It could melt her, make her weak at the knees which was something they both knew. He drew her to her feet for a moment and she curtsied to him slightly.

"Or perhaps it should be Ser now." She said, her green eyes shining with delight. "Her Grace told us when we received word of the victory. I'm so happy for you, Jaime," She whispered. It was so soft that no one but him would have been able to hear her amongst the raucous court. The tone of her voice made Jaime melt deep inside. He would have given anything to be able to take her in his arms right there and then and kiss her. But even Jaime, who never looked before he leapt, wasn't _that_ foolish.

"I've missed you." He murmured softly. To anyone else, it would have looked like they were merely exchanging pleasantries, but the intensity with which they stared at one another, the way their eyes met, the identical flip flops of stomachs, racing of hearts, warming and flushing of skin — definitely not simple pleasantries.

"I have missed you a thousand times more." Cersei said, the intensity in her gaze and voice felt enough to singe him like walking across a bed of coals — but singed in a good way.

What he did do was pull her into his arms for a brief hug — something appropriate for a brother and a sister. But her lips found his ear and she murmured into it, "I need to talk with you."

Jaime tilted his head so that his lips could brush against her ear as well without it looking as if they were doing anymore than hugging briefly, but his words were filthy and made Cersei's cheeks flame red. "And I need to fuck you."

Cersei swallowed hard, almost choking. "Jaime!" she hissed.

"No one's watching us." He muttered quietly.

"I've got an idea. Follow my lead." Cersei said, green eyes dancing joyfully.

Jaime wondered what Cersei had in mind and was looking forward to finding out.

For a time, perhaps as much as twenty or thirty minutes, Cersei sat and would not even look at him. Jaime wondered what sort of new torture this was, but Cersei had said to follow her lead, and he was helpless to do anything else. At first, he thought it legitimately had been an accident. A serving wench tripped. She went headlong into Cersei, spilling a flagon of wine all over Cersei's dress. However, when Cersei looked over the shoulder of the red faced, profusely apologizing wench, and caught Jaime's eye, the look of accomplishment said everything. She was practically grinning like a cat with a mouse. Jaime almost felt bad for the wench because Cersei was giving her a tongue lashing now. Then again, she was just a wench and it didn't really matter so much.

"This gown will be ruined now!" Cersei was still going on putting up a fuss so perfectly. "I certainly cannot stay here bathed with wine! Your Grace, I make my apologies but…"

The Queen made a sound of regret as she looked at the sodden dress, "Of course. You have my leave. You are welcome to change and return if you wish."

Cersei smiled her prettiest smile at the Queen. "You are very kind, Your Grace." She curtsied and backed away as Jaime watched her go in utter fascination. She was perfect. And there was not a bit of guilt or hint of her lies and schemes anywhere in her cool, impassive face. But Jaime knew better than to believe Cersei would return to her room in the Tower of the Hand. The doors would be guarded, their father would eventually return; the risk was simply too great. It was, therefore, no shock to him when he saw Cersei, instead of going through the main door, slip silently and unnoticed into a tiny side exit that led into the passages usually only servants used.

The corner of his mouth quirked in amusement and he felt his cock twitch slightly, almost in accord. Gods be good! He needed to get out of here. But, to be absolutely certain he would arouse no attention, Jaime sat there at the table drinking his wine and feeling as if every minute was an hour crawling by like an ant over an entire keep. All he wanted was to go after Cersei. And every time he thought of it, he had to go back to that image of thinking of polishing his armor. Unfortunately, then he thought about how much Cersei loved to look upon him in that golden armor so recently wrought for him and how sometimes she would watch while he cleaned it in the few times they had been together over the past couple of years. That, of course, did not help his predicament either. Blast. He couldn't wait any longer. Surely, enough time had gone by now. Respectfully, he did his leave taking and said that he needed to walk outside and get some air. His face was flushed. It would have looked as if he'd had slightly too much to drink, but in reality that was hardly the reason his face was so red.

He went out the main doors, but then doubled back once he was sure no one was watching. In the dark passageway he found Cersei in a shadowed niche along the bare stone wall. She reached out and seized his wrist in such a tight grasp it actually hurt, though Jaime hardly complained as he slipped into the niche with her. It was scarcely big enough for them to stand in, but it would keep them hidden if anyone should come through the passage most likely. After all, who looked in dark niches of servant corridors? Jaime had no doubt they were far from original, but it wasn't like they were going to stay there. This was just a place to meet and decide where would be safest to go — for both the fucking and the talking. Preferably in that order. And then, hopefully, more fucking after.

He didn't wait for Cersei to talk once she'd pulled him into the alcove. If anyone came, they'd be able to hear them and retreat completely back against the wall, very unlikely to be seen. It was a risk but a modest one — one he was desperate enough to take given that, in this very short amount of time, his cock was already straining against his breeches, somehow getting there in very short order in the time he'd waited in the great hall. He was glad he'd been able to pull his cloak around slightly to hide it.

Then, all of it was wiped out of his mind as Cersei, who'd still been holding his wrist, pulled him forward and kissed him hard. In fact, her kiss was possessive and almost… vicious. 'Like a lioness at her kill,' he thought appreciatively. The kiss hurt. His lip and chin and, well, his entire face actually, were still far from healed after his exchange of swords with the Smiling Knight, but he _did not care_. Cersei's mouth was hot and hard and small and wet under his, and it reminded him of what else was waiting for him. She kissed him so hard that he felt the unhealed skin on his lip break and blood enter his mouth and hers too. His hissed slightly into the kiss at the ripping of flesh, but he didn't care about that either. The lip would heal eventually — kissing Cersei this way was worth it.

Jaime grabbed her hand hard and jerked it to the laces of his breeches. They were miserably tight. She knew what he wanted and complied, unlacing him and slipping her small, soft hand inside, stroking him a couple of times as the tension of the tight pants finally was relieved. Jaime didn't hesitate to roughly pull down the front of her gown to reveal one of her breasts and put his hand on it and then his mouth, sucking at it as Cersei drew in a hiss of breath, clenching her eyes closed and biting her lips to keep from letting out a moan when he sucked her like that.

He let go of her breast for a moment and went back to kissing her until he had to stop to breathe. Both of them were panting and still chest to chest in the little space, but it mattered not. He thought she was so beautiful with her high color and heaving chest, the flush sneaking up her chest and neck and into her cheeks. Her golden hair, which had been all piled up fancily in the alabaster clasp he'd given her when she got her first moon-blood, was all askew now. "Gods, Cersei." He muttered low.

"What happened to your mouth?" She demanded, her voice at a whisper so no one could hear them if someone should actually come into the passageway.

Jaime reached up to feel the bleeding lip and chin and found he didn't care. He smirked slightly. "Well, it was healing until you happened to it." He pointed out.

Cersei practically rolled her eyes at him in the most unladylike way — like a child. "Before me."

"Ah. Well, it seems the Smiling Knight was jealous of my handsome smile," He grinned with an absolutely wicked undertone.

"Jaime!" Cersei protested, wanting the full truth of how the man she loved had come back to her bruised, battered, and with a lip that looked like it had definitely seen better days, especially now that it was weeping blood down his chin, though Jaime barely seemed to notice, much less care.

"All right. The Smiling Knight smashed my helm into my face with his sword." Frankly, Jaime was lucky the man hadn't broken his nose. "Now. No more talking," Jaime said. They were being rash and foolish and needed to get out of here and find a place there was no way they could be discovered, but, right now, Jaime couldn't stand to take his hands off Cersei to do that.

His mouth was back on hers hard and fast and she wasn't aware of what he was doing until his fingers worked their way up under her skirt and into her small clothes feeling her cunt already slick with desire for him. It was tantalizing. No one could undo him like Cersei. Into his mouth, she mewled like a kitten when he stroked her with his fingers in that heated, secret place between her legs, sliding a finger inside her and using his thumb to pleasure her sex as she squirmed and gasped into his mouth and he kept her quiet with his lips over hers. He grabbed her hand and put it back on his cock and she started to stroke him in earnest, touching all the places he had showed her so many times before that he liked.

"We shouldn't…" was all she managed. And Jaime knew they 'shouldn't' but Jaime had never really cared about rules. Rules were for seeing how far you could bend them as far as he was concerned. His mouth was back on hers hot and demanding and he didn't pay one bit of attention to how she said they 'shouldn't.' There was a hundred thousand things they 'shouldn't' do probably starting with the most obvious of having sex, but it wasn't like he cared. And he wasn't going to wait any longer. He tore and ripped at small clothes like a wild animal — just enough to get them out of his way with her skirts spread around the two of them. He lifted her into his arms as he leaned lightly against the wall and without pretense he pushed his cock inside her as deep as she could take him.

Cersei made a little sound of surprise mixed with desire. But she was so wet that even though he had buried himself to his base inside her without even a second to let her adjust, she had no trouble or discomfort in taking him. Cersei wrapped her legs around his waist and tangled her hands in his hair, grabbing it as she smashed her mouth against his. His head hit the stone behind them, but he seemed not even to notice as her mouth ravaged his and he brought her up and down hard on him with the both of them still almost fully clothed. That wasn't how he had intended on taking her. He had intended on it being slow and giving of all kinds of pleasure, but when presented with Cersei as she was, he just couldn't help it. He couldn't control himself. And the gasps she was making into his mouth told him she was just as eager as he was. His hands were occupied holding her against him, though one managed to find the breast he had not yet teased. Cersei grabbed his face up and once again smashed her mouth into his and pulled his injured lip into her mouth, sucking at it. Mysteriously, it didn't hurt even though when he touched it, even slightly, it was enough to make him cringe. And then she wrapped her tongue around his and gave it a firm suck as well causing him to make a strangled pleasure sound. She really was like a lioness at the kill.

He was so keyed up that it was embarrassingly short. Seven strokes and he could not hold off his orgasm any longer. It came hard and fast like a wave in a storm as he spilled his seed deep inside her and Cersei moaned softly, her whole body shuddering as she buried her face in his shoulder and tried in vain to control her breathing — more like gasping. She had not yet found her pleasure, but she wasn't concerned — Jaime would put that to rights once they got out of here. Part of her could not believe what they'd just done. Were they so desperate for each other? Was she so desperate for him that she'd fucked him inside a passageway like a common whore? Apparently so. This was what Jaime did to her and she couldn't bring herself to care even though she should.

He let her down and she could feel the stickiness of his cum on her thighs. From the amount and how he lasted barely a fraction of the time he usually did, Cersei had a feeling he had not been pleasuring himself and it gave her a perverse enjoyment to know he hadn't done so and thus it was hers to do for him.

But now that her heart was beginning to slow down a bit, her mind was at least reaching for some kind of rationality. They needed to talk. Much as she just wanted for them to find someplace and go continue their lovemaking, they absolutely needed to talk about the business with Lysa Tully — may the others take her father for causing this _mess_. It felt so unfair that in the dais barely a room away King Aerys was sitting with his sister who was also his wife and yet while that was overlooked due to the Targaryen's Valyerian ancestry, she and Jaime could not enjoy the same. But life wasn't fair else she'd have had sword fighting lessons from a real instructor and been included in council meetings and talked to of politics at her father's right hand and people would listen to her and take her seriously instead of passing her off as incompetent because she was a woman.

She was still trying to catch her breath "Jaime. We have to talk." She said, her voice taut as a bow string.

Jaime just grinned. "All right. We can talk. As long as I can fuck you again after, sweet Cersei."

Her stomach flip-flopped.

"And with decidedly less clothes. And you'll put your mouth on my cock."

She actually groaned a little. "Jaime. I'm.. Seven Hells! I'm serious. We. Stop distracting me!" She hissed in annoyance as his hand sneaked into her dress and ran up her side, finding and covering her breast and playing with her nipple. He decided to be good. For a moment.

"Father is going to marry you off. In short order."

Jaime cocked his head and looked at her questioningly. "What? Cersei that doesn't even make—."

She interrupted him, "Jaime, I heard him and Hoster Tully talking about it. I listened to their conversation while they drew up the whole contract. They intend you to wed Lysa Tully in only a few moon's turn.

"_Lysa_?" Jaime cringed feeling almost reviled when he said the name of the younger Tully girl. Perhaps he might not have complained (quite) so much about the older girl — Catelyn. No, he did not wish to marry, but it was an inevitability that he would eventually and the Tullys were strong blood. It would be a good alliance. He could have borne Catelyn. A slight shiver went up his back when he thought about the fact that Catelyn Tully could be fierce and that taking her maidenhead might be rather enjoyable indeed. Of course, it would be a lie. His heart belonged to Cersei — every part of him belonged to Cersei.

But _Lysa_? She was a sniveling soft little thing without a spine and prone to nervous giggles and silences. Jaime wasn't sure she had two brain cells to rub together. Her petulant mouth could never, never do to him what Cersei's did. Jaime imagined she'd probably gag taking his cock down her throat; Cersei could take it all the way to the base in both her cunt and her throat. No. Lysa Tully was not someone he would wed. He had barely been able to stand the girl the fortnight at Riverrun when he'd been mysteriously seated beside her at dinner every single day two years before when he had visited. His only enjoyment during that time he remembered was talking to the Blackfish about his conquests and glory at war.

"I won't." Jaime said, a growing horror making him want to yell.

"I've got a plan," Cersei said, her green eyes taking on a cunning, cat-like glow. She looked positively frightening when she had that expression. If he hadn't been Jaime, if she hadn't been his Cersei, he'd have feared that look.

"There is the Cersei I know. What do you have in mind, sweet sister?"


	4. Bound in Ribbons

AN: Thank you for being back to read again. I appreciate the reviews from LadyKatherine29 & Felon GT! Bear in mind this chapter is going to go slightly AU. This 'could' technically have happened in canon but just didn't. Please enjoy and if you have time, I love reviews.

Chapter IV

Bound in Ribbons

'_There is the Cersei I know. What do you have in mind, sweet sister?'_

Just as Cersei was about to open her mouth to respond, there was a clanking sound at the other end of the passage and then a heavy, wooden-sounding _thud_. Cersei's green eyes met Jaime's with a stricken, horrified expression as the guttering light of a torch disrupted the darkness and made shadows dance on the stone floor perilously close to the niche where they were hiding.

Suddenly, the cum on her legs felt cold and wrong — not because she was ashamed of Jaime or her love for him but because she could only imagine what would happen if they were discovered. Even Cersei was not foolish enough to believe they could get away with what the Targaryens did, whether or not it was fair. They had been caught once when they were four by their Lady Mother. Cersei could still remember the intensity of her reaction, and that was when they were toddlers without any notion that what they were doing was 'wrong.' — It hadn't (and still didn't!) feel wrong, so Cersei used the term loosely, but still. The point remained that two grown adults would be in far more trouble, and it had already been rather a great deal of trouble when they were children.

In the darkness, twin green eyes met. Jaime pulled Cersei flush against his chest, his arms protectively around her, moving so she was further against the back of the niche than he, as if he could keep her safe by doing so. There was an incredibly tense moment as the pair stood still as stone while two servants trundled a barrel of wine as tall as Jaime's waist up the passage so close Cersei could have reached out and touched them. She could hear the contents sloshing in a way uncomfortably reminiscent to what her stomach was doing just now.

"_Gods but these Lordlings can drink." _

"_As if you drink less?" _

"_Mayhaps, but not all in a night." _

"_But never tell them that. They think we know nothing." _

"_Aye, that I'd raise a goblet to." _

There was a sharp laugh and a scraping as the pair sat the barrel upright at the end of the passage as it was too large to go sideways through the door. Mercifully, the passageway was again secluded in darkness and, only once the danger was past, did Cersei let a small shudder go up her back and release the breath she'd been holding, sagging against Jaime's strong chest.

Jaime's arms were still tight around her, and she felt him nuzzle the crown of her hair with his face. She could feel that he was grinning. "Are you so fearless?" she breathed.

"No, only a fool in love." Jaime returned half sardonically and half seriously. Cersei wanted to smack at him and call him 'fool, indeed!' but she knew he would just kiss her and she, of course, would kiss back.

"Where should we go? Not back to the Tower… Though what I'll do with this, I don't know. I liked this dress, too." Cersei grumbled, looking down at the dress. It was, of course, still covered in the wine she'd gotten spilled on it as an excuse to leave the party. Admittedly, it was a worthy sacrifice for Jaime.

"I'll like it better _off_ of you," Jaime growled in her ear before nipping it between his teeth and making her dizzy. He had no shame, and it only incited her more. She'd like to scold him, but she couldn't find her breath to do it. Instead, she just tilted her head so she could catch his lips with hers, though she didn't linger as long this time. "As for where… meet me in the Godswood.

Cersei arched her brow at him. "Why is it always the Godswood?"

"Do you know anyone else going there in the middle of the night during a feast?"

"… All right." Cersei allowed. She had always found the Godswood creepy even though she set even less store by the Old Gods than the New. "Meet me there in fifteen minutes." Jaime looked, for all the world, like a child about to whine, but Cersei stopped him, covering his mouth with hers once more effectively stifling any and all complaints. She pulled back and whispered to him, still against his mouth. "Don't you think Father would find it troublesome were anyone to mention to him I never returned to my room?"

She made a good point. "Fifteen minutes. But they'll think you've gone to bed and then you'll have a difficult time sneaking out."

Cersei just smiled a grin that looked like a cat. "You underestimate me, brother." Her voice was sultry and made Jaime's heart lurch like jumping on horseback. And before he could make some backhanded comment — in fact before he could quite think at all given she kissed him yet again — Cersei slipped out of the niche and was gone almost instantly.

Jaime groaned quietly and laid his head back against the niche's stone wall. He couldn't get hard again quite yet, but just the promise of meeting in fifteen minutes would have gotten him hard if he'd been capable. He laced his breeches and, with a quick look to make sure no one was nearby, left the corridor behind.

When he was finally outside, the chill night air on his face was a welcome respite. His cheeks were flushed and the wind was like a gentle caress — like Cersei's gentle caress. Everything related back to Cersei somehow, it seemed. Into the Godswood Jaime went. The irony had not been lost on him that, many a time, he and Cersei had met in a Godswood simply because no one regularly came to them here in the South. They were a good location for sneaking away. Yet, what they snuck away to do were things supposedly abhorrent to the Old Gods. That confused Jaime who didn't know how anything that felt so right could be abhorrent. That was mutually exclusive to Jaime's way of thinking.

He found a place to sit on some soft, mossy ground and lean his back against a tree and peeled off his boots while he waited. It seemed like an age before he heard Cersei's soft footfalls in the grass. His breath caught when he laid eyes on her. Gods she was beautiful, this lover of his. She wore a simple cream dress that laced up the back — though how she'd done the laces on her own, which would have been required for her to sneak out, he couldn't guess. She was barefoot, letting the soft grass tickle her toes. She'd fixed her hair. She left part of it down and twisted up the other part with a beautiful cream silk ribbon. Her lips were red — like as not from both biting and kissing. Just the sight of her was enough to send him reeling.

Jaime stood and reached his hand to her and pulled her to him. He cradled Cersei against his chest and pressed his face into her golden hair to smell the scent that was inexorably connected with Cersei. He had missed this, missed the chance to be close to her. She was part of him, and he always felt empty when she wasn't at his side. He felt her relax against him the way she didn't do with anyone else, and he slipped his fingers through her golden hair and kissed the crown of her head and down her cheek and jaw and finally met her lips in a soft, slow kiss. Her lips met his too. The frantic need to have him in her, filling her, was perhaps not sated, but able to be calmed for a time after what they had done in the passage. Instead, she let her lips meet his with incredible softness but filled with the passion she felt for him. She parted her lips, opening to him so their tongues could brush against one another and tightened her arms around his neck, slipping her fingers into his hair. She could feel the warmth of his hands press against her back and the strength of his chest against her own. She could never want anyone else or love anyone else in the way she wanted — no needed — Jaime and loved him. Yes, eventually her Father would marry her off. Yes, she would have desperately liked to marry Rhaegar and be a queen. But it would never be the same as with Jaime. It would never be as strong or as beautiful. Too much of her soul resided within Jaime and too much of his soul resided within her for it to be otherwise.

That brought back her mercurial thoughts from earlier and she drew back from the kiss, though did not pull her body away from him. Jaime followed her mouth with his own, but she gently pressed a finger against his lips causing him to make a sound crossed between frustration and whining. "I want you too." Cersei said softly, sliding her fingers along his jaw, brushing a thumb over his cheek and then over his lips. He parted them and sucked on the tip of her thumb making her close her eyes for a moment and struggle to focus. "Gods do I want you. But Later. First, we need to figure out what to do about this betrothal."

Jaime had to admit she was right. As much as he would have preferred to spend the entire night thinking and doing nothing but making love to Cersei, they had limited time to figure out what to do about the Lysa situation. And Jaime was not going to marry Lysa Tully no matter what he might have to do to prevent it. Slowly, he drew Cersei to the ground with him and linked his fingers through hers while they sat knee to knee. "You said you have an idea." Jaime prompted her.

"It seems as though, for the foreseeable future, I will be here in King's Landing. A number of men have asked Father for me, but he turns them down. I suspect that he's either waiting for Viserys to come of age or waiting for Elia to die in childbed. She's… not particularly strong." Cersei hoped for the latter. Much as she did not mind, perhaps even liked Elia, she had found Viserys to be a spoiled brat even though he was only a child. She was not sure she could stand being married to him without killing him in irritation at some point. Not to mention, she couldn't imaging laying with him. She could have imagined it with Rhaegar. Of course, she would have Jaime either way. And that was what would truly fill her, but that did not mean she was anxious to be betrothed to a spoiled child spare either. The point was, she was going to be staying in King's Landing for a while. If she and Jaime were to be together in secret, then he needed an excuse to also be in King's Landing and around Cersei regularly.

She paused a moment and then continued. "Ser Harlan Grandison died recently." Ser Harlan was an old man and had lived a life of knightly valor and conquest. He had also been a member of the Kingsguard. "You could take his place. It hasn't yet been decided who will fill it."

Jaime's head spun. The Kingsguard? He shook his head slightly, trying to wrap his mind around the idea. "That's impossible. I'd have to give up Casterly Rock, too." Admittedly, he had never much liked playing at being Lord of Casterly Rock. He did not enjoy the politics and the tedium that was required to go with that position. He knew that from the miserable hours he had spent in his father's solar being drilled on all of these things as a boy. It was not lost on him, once again, that Cersei would be far better suited to being Lady of Casterly Rock than he Lord of Casterly Rock. But Tywin would not even consider that, so there was no point in bringing it up. He was too traditional.

For a moment, frustration and anger gleamed in Cersei's green eyes — and maybe even hurt. "Do you want a rock or do you want me?" She spit at him, pulling out of his arms rather forcefully.

Jaime couldn't help but sigh as she pulled away from him and stood up, refusing to look at him. He stood too and went to place his hands gently on her arms. For a moment she stiffened but then allowed the contact. "Seven hells, Cersei. You know I want you — always you. We just need to think this through before we decide." He soothed, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

The stiffness abated though only slightly. "The bigger problem is that the Kingsguard isn't going to take me. I'm barely a man grown. I was only just knighted less than a month ago. I have no idea how many dozens of names have been put forth, but I can guess almost all of them are more qualified than me." He pointed out.

Cersei smiled that smile that said her mind was already working on a plan. "I'll take care of it. Aerys will choose you." She said, as firmly as if it were already an assured thing.

"How do you know?" Jaime asked.

"I simply do. As I said, I'll take care of it." Jaime wondered what she was going to do to 'take care of it' but he trusted Cersei unequivocally. If this was the way to ensure they stayed together, then it was a price worth paying for Cersei. "But we'll have to be apart for a while. Father will get suspicious too quickly if you don't come home to Casterly Rock the way you planned relatively soon. So, until I get you a summons from Aerys to say your vows.. You'll have to go back home without me. That's the one bad part. We're going to be apart a while longer now."

Jaime nodded, sobering further and waiting for her to continue. He didn't like the idea of being apart anymore than she did, but it appeared it was going to be that way and they would simply have to manage. If they weren't plotting subterfuge, he could have come up with excuses to stay in King's Landing for a good month or so, maybe longer. Now, he had to be more careful not to arouse Tywin's suspicion. If his father suspected, that would ruin everything as sure as certain.

Gently, Cersei reached up to touch his cheek and run her fingers through his hair. Gods he was her everything. She felt him pull her into his arms and then guide her back to lay in the soft grass again, and he hovered over her, covering her body with his and making her feel safe as he leaned to touch her face with fingers as soft as butterflies and kiss her beautiful, soft, swollen mouth. It moved and parted beneath his, and he felt the heat of her lips and mouth on him. This was what Cersei was made for, he decided. Other things too, but especially this. She was made to let Jaime love her and love him in return.

"I will miss you," Cersei whispered. There was something so desperately vulnerable in her tone. It was a vulnerability she never would have let anyone else see. She didn't even like Jaime to see it most of the time. He rolled to his side and brought her with him, wrapping strong, protective arms around her. She loved the warmth of his large, strong hands on her back and feeling his chest rise and fall against her own. She could still remember before their mother had caught them when they were allowed to share a bed. She missed that more than anything.

"And I you, but our time apart won't be so long if you really think you could get the king to do this thing." Jaime said, cradling Cersei's face in his hand and running the other through her golden curls. It was as if they tried to touch each other as much as they could, to make their muscles form a graven image of the way the touches felt to hold with them while they weren't together.

And he wouldn't have to be with anyone else, Jaime realized. He had accepted the idea he would be married at some point, that there would be someone other than Cersei. It hadn't troubled him greatly. All cunts are tight and warm. He could close his eyes and think of Cersei when he was with her, and she would never know the difference as long as he made it pleasurable for her. What he thought about wouldn't be important. But he hadn't exactly relished the notion either. Cersei was everything he needed and wanted, so why should he look elsewhere? There was no corner of him unfulfilled by her; what more could he possibly want? It would be almost a relief never to have to pretend.

Jaime didn't like the idea of Cersei with another either, but that was even less plausible. He had her in every way that mattered, though. She had told him and he felt it in her touches and kisses. That was enough for him. Still, sometimes he thought there was little he wouldn't have given though to be a Targaryen instead of a Lannister. Everything could have been different. He dreamed about that sometimes. They would be inside with their friends dancing the night away in each other's arms without a care in the world. He could put his cloak about her shoulders and say his words to her properly. But someone else would get to do that. That was one thing he couldn't have.

"What are you thinking?" Cersei whispered, pulling his head down to rest on her chest so she could run her fingers through his hair the way she liked to do.

He tipped his face up to look at her but made sure not to push her fingers out of his hair. "That I wish I could marry you. I'd give you my cloak and say the words."

"I would too." Cersei murmured softly. "… Say the words that is. And wear your cloak." She was quiet for a moment, thinking about that, savoring it.

"We could I suppose." Jaime leaned up on his elbow to look at her better. He could see her starting to protest and continued quickly before she could. "Not with a septon. Or people. And it'd have to be a secret but… we could. No one will go to the sept tonight just like no one will come here tonight."

Cersei's green eyes sparked with both interest and amusement. "You are a beautiful, golden fool." She whispered, running her fingers through his hair again with a quiet affection she only reserved for Jaime.

"I'm _your_ beautiful golden fool, though." He said and then leaned up to smother her laughter with a kiss that Cersei turned possessive and hungry within a moment.

When it ended she murmured, "All right then. Let's do it."

A light shimmered in Jaime's eyes and a feeling of pride and pleasure and warmth felt like it started in his chest and spread all throughout his body. Cersei could feel it mirrored in her own body as well and knew just from looking at him that they were feeling the same thing. She let out an almost girlish giggle — definitely not something she let anyone but Jaime see. He traced her cheek.

"I think we have everything we need. You've got a cloak. There will be candles in the sept. And I have a ribbon." She reached up and carefully extracted it from her hair, pulling it slowly so as not to pull her hair too and finally got it free. She folded the ribbon in her hand and then reached for Jaime's hand with her free one.

"Let's go then." He said, but still taking the time to lean down and kiss her softly.

"Mm mm you have to go first. You have to be waiting at the altars of the Mother and the Father, so you can see me walk down the aisle." She pointed out, her green eyes coy.

Jaime couldn't resist a small grin. "Of course. I'll go. But come to me soon." He murmured, catching her face and kissing her again.

"The Gods themselves couldn't keep me away from you." She breathed against his mouth when their kiss broke.

When Cersei entered the sept a few minutes later, Jaime had already managed to make it beautiful. He had lit the candles so the light was soft and yellow with a gentle flickering. He had also, she noted, lit offering candles to both the Mother and the Father since weddings took place between their statues. He had taken off his Lannister cloak and laid it within easy reach to put on her. And somewhere, somehow, he'd managed to very quickly gather up some wildflowers to scatter along where she would walk to meet him. It was all beautiful, and it touched her heart more than she could have expressed. Perhaps this wasn't real on parchment, but it was real inside her heart, and that was what actually mattered wasn't it?

Cersei saw Jaime before he noticed her. He took her breath away. He stood there lighting some incense with his golden curls falling about his collar. She knew his green eyes would be shining once those eyes were turned to her. There was the softest of smiles across his lips.

And when he looked up and saw her she was pleased to note the way his eyes widened and he had to work not to let his jaw drop.

'_Gods… she is beautifu_l.' was all Jaime could think. His breath was stolen completely as he watched Cersei stand in the doorway of the sept. She was just wearing the same cream gown from earlier, but it suited her in all the right ways. In the light of the candles, she seemed to actually glow. Her face shone with true bliss. Her eyes and mouth were soft and happy. Her hair. Her hair he wanted to run his fingers through and… '_No, don't think about that. Think about what's going on right now_.' Her dress hugged her curves and revealed a little of her shoulders and the hint of her breasts. Her skin was all flushed. "And she is mine." Jaime whispered beneath his breath, his head seeming to spin in happy disbelief.

Jaime reached his hand out toward her and Cersei came to him, slowly walking over the flowers he had laid down for her. And when she reached him, he took her hand and kissed her knuckles ever so softly, his eyes burning into hers. Tingles went all through her body when she felt his lips on her fingers. It was as if their love had become a tangible thing that she could feel inside of her. There was a warmth in her chest she'd never experienced before, which felt as if it slowly began to radiate all through her.

"This woman presents herself for marriage to this man." Cersei whispered. Despite how quietly she spoke, how solemnly, Jaime could hear her clearly. Her heart was pounding. She did not need someone to give her away to Jaime. That had been her own decision, and she claimed it now.

"And this man, very much wants this woman." Jaime murmured. That wasn't part of the ceremony, but he couldn't resist. It warmed Cersei all the way through. Her face and eyes were so soft just now, and she knew it.

"I stand here in the sight of the gods to be united with this woman whom I love to the depth and breadth of my soul so we may be one flesh, one heart, and one soul, now and forevermore." Jaime murmured, drawing Cersei to him. It felt so very real. Her heart was pounding. She wondered if his was too.

Jaime smiled at her, that soft smile that made her go weak at the knees. It was the smile that was just for her. "Now I will cloak my bride and bring her under my protection." Jaime murmured, lifting up the Lannister cloak he'd taken off his own shoulders earlier. Feeling like her head was spinning in a beautiful way, Cersei turned her back to him as he gently, so gently, wrapped his cloak around her shoulder and tied it there. He was very slowly to move his hands, as if he didn't want the moment to end. Cersei understood; she didn't want it to end either.

She turned back to him finally and brought forth the ribbon for the handfasting. Normally, they would join both hands and the septon would tie the ribbon around their joined hands before they said their vows. But since they had only themselves, they used one hand apiece so they could yes their other hand to work together to tie the knot. As connected as they were, it was very easy to use their spare hands to tie the knot.

And then they were Bound.

Jaime looked at their hands and then into her eyes and said softly, "Let it be known that we are one heart, one flesh, and one soul." His voice was barely above a breath.

"Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder." Cersei whispered, lifting her free hand to run her fingers along his cheek.

"Our souls are hereby sealed, binding them as one for eternity." There was a quiet moment as he felt her squeeze his hand within the knot of her ribbon and take his other hand in her free one. She was lost in his face, in his eyes, in his emotion that was so palpable she could feel it. She knew hers was too.

"I will look upon my bride and say my words to her," Jaime breathed.

"And I will look upon my groom and say my words to him," Cersei responded.

And so they spoke together in their soft, yearning, beautiful tones. "Father, Mother, Maiden, Warrior, Smith, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine."

"I am his and he is mine."

"From this day until the end of my days," They both whispered at once, green eyes never leaving each others' .

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." Jaime said softly. And then he drew Cersei to him, into his arms and pressed his mouth so very softly and with so much love over hers. He felt her respond in kind and it made his stomach leap inside him. Somehow, it felt like the best kiss they had ever shared. He just drew her closer and Cersei did not let their lips part as Jaime tilted her backward just slightly while he kissed her, showing off just for the two of them. Their hands were still clasped between them and Cersei freed hers and brought her arms gently around Jaime's neck as they kissed their first kiss as man and wife. She felt his hands settle gently on her lower back just where she liked them.

The kiss … it was soft and warm and passionate and perfect and she had no idea how long it lasted but knew it could never be long enough.


	5. Our Love Is Strong Enough

_A/N: _

_I know this is the last chapter of this project, which is a little sad since I've enjoyed it so much. However, there is a very exciting prospect that you can find more information about at the end note! (No! No skipping! Read the chapter first. Context is important!) This is a chapter you will absolutely want to take a shower after reading. Also not recommended to read (or in my case try to write) over your lunch break. Whew. Thank you to LadyKatherine29 for reviewing last chapter! You are SO appreciated! _

Chapter V

Our Love Is Strong Enough

_The kiss … it was soft and warm and passionate and perfect and she had no idea how long it lasted but knew it could never be long enough_.

And when it broke, Jaime wrapped his arms around Cersei and just held her close to him, burying his face in her golden curls. Perhaps she would never be his for true, but they had done this and it was real enough to them. This was what mattered. When their Father inevitably married Cersei off to whomever he would marry her off to, this was what she would think about even as her new husband put his cloak on her. In reality, the cloak Jaime had put there tonight was irreplaceable. He knew it and she knew it. No matter what 'fake' one might be put there in a real ceremony, the real cloak had been put there by Jaime that night.

Cersei lifted to her tiptoes and whispered in Jaime's ear, "I love you." His arms tightened around her lower back and he nuzzled her hair even more. "But we should probably get out of here. We needn't take too much of a risk of being found. It would be difficult to explain." She pointed out. Of course, Cersei was always one step ahead of Jaime who leapt and then might bother to look later if something else didn't catch his attention first. Though, he knew she was right. While he doubted anyone would come to the sept, they couldn't be sure. He stopped instead to give her another long, soft kiss.

Cersei lifted to her tiptoes again, mind spinning from the kisses. Jaime's kisses made her as heady as when she had too much wine, but even sweeter. Her lips brushed across his ear and when her breath did too, she felt him give a delightful shiver. "And if we don't leave we won't be able to have a bedding." And then she brought out the tip of her wet tongue to brush the skin of his ear and Jaime shuddered again, holding Cersei more tightly against him. That tongue drove him crazy. So did her breath, her scent, her hair, her everything.

He tipped his face toward her. "Mm.. But there are no people to participate in a bedding, and even _I_ rather think recruiting some would get us into trouble."

Cersei actually chuckled and shook her head, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "We don't need other people to make our own bedding. We already know we're quite proficient at it." She leaned up again to whispered in the other ear this time. "I would love to be bundled up naked in bed with you, and we can certainly do _that_ effectively." She loved the reactions she coaxed from him when she was more daring and more open about her need. She kissed him slow then. Slow and still soft but letting her tongue slip between his lips to run against his and then taking his lower lip between her teeth for a moment, pulling at it playfully before she breathed against his mouth. "Besides, if I recall, you wanted me to put my mouth on your cock."

Jaime's whole body went momentarily rigid when she parroted back at him what he'd said in the passageway earlier. Gods yes. He did want her to, and he loved when she did it. He barely managed to get some sort of a sound out that was between a yes, a moan, and a groan as he caught her lips and kissed her, kissed her deep and hard and long. "Yes I do." He hissed low.

"Come then." Cersei murmured, reaching her hand for his and slipping her fingers into his. Their fingers melded together instantly, clearly meant to be joined as one. It was effortless how they joined — just as perfect as their couplings were.

"And where, mayhaps, do you plan to go that no one will find us this time? If we are to have a proper bedding there must be a bed." And that would make things more complicated. It would mean they would have to find a room within the Red Keep that they could be sure and certain no one would locate them. Unlike the sept, they had to be completely sure. It would have been awkward but possible to find an excuse for what they were doing right now, but he'd have come up with something or Cersei with her quick tongue would have done.

"I have an idea." She said, her hand still in his.

"I look forward to whatever my lady has contrived." Jaime said, playfully serious in tone, though he could not help but admit his blood did race at the thought of what she had reminded him he'd asked for and she intended to do. Yes, he was certainly looking forward to it. And currently he had no Lannister cloak to hide just how much he was looking forward to it given he had put it on Cersei's shoulders and she still wore it like a badge of honor.

She smirked down at his tight breeches as if she instantly knew that what she said would elicit a reaction from him. "You know I have often wished I was born a man, but that is one problem I am happy to do without. I can want until my smallclothes are sopping for you and no one is the wiser." And then she led him toward the door of the sept, Jaime sucking in a breath as he went. She loved doing that — making his mind reel and then simply walking away sometimes with his hand in hers, sometimes leaving him to think about her suggestions. She was doing the former at the moment, and Jaime could barely breathe at the thought of it all.

Once he had recovered himself a little bit, he decided that what was good for the goose was also good for the gander and leaned up to her ear. "And _are_ your smallclothes sopping wet for me, Sweet Cersei?" Her only response was a barely muffled moan, stifled because she put her fingers over her mouth. But, of course, he had his answer and a grin spread across his face that half made her want to smack him and half made her want to stop and kiss him again.

The air outside the sept was cool and crisp on Cersei's flushed cheeks and cooled Jaime's ardor enough to let him think with more clarity; though she noticed it didn't cool it enough to dampen his obvious arousal. That pleased her. She slipped her fingers into his own as she guided them through the darkened keep grounds. They could hear the revelry from the feast, but it felt as if that was a world apart and she was content to let it remain so.

She heard Jaime chuckle in high amusement when he saw what she had in mind. The Maidenvault. The irony of it was almost as good as their forays in the Godswood. A long, slate-roofed building, it was located behind the sept. It was where King Baelor I Targaryen had kept his three sisters, to whom he was married, confined so they would not awaken carnal thoughts within him. Most often these days it was used when Great Houses visited with a huge host attached. More importantly, it was currently wholly unoccupied. Of course, it was always made ready in the event of unexpected visitors even so. It would serve a perfect place for a bedding, Cersei had decided.

Slipping inside revealed the gigantic great hall. Tall, narrow windows along either side of the room cast it in enough moonlight to guide their way. The great hall had a vaulted ceiling with great wooden archways running its length. On each of the archways were painted intricate scenes of court life. The walls were light colored stone dotted here and there between the windows with statues of gallant knights on horseback. The ceiling between the arches was wood lattice designed in intricate seven-pointed stars. Great chandeliers of blue and white glass and many candles hung from the central beam of the ceiling. The room was filled with giant tables for feasting, of course including a high table at one end for the royal party. Beyond it a stone wall opened up into further passage that lead to all sort of rooms but, most importantly for their purpose, bedchambers.

Actually reaching those rooms was another matter entirely. The moment they were within the great hall and the door had been closed, Jaime immediately pressed Cersei up against the wall so he could kiss her again. Now that he knew they were well out of sight his kisses were hard and passionate against her. Her breath flowed over his lips just inciting both of them further. Her fingers found their way into his doublet, seeking skin though the layers of fabric but not finding it just yet. Now, it was her rushing and him slowing down, reversing their roles and back again. Their mouths moved together in perfect rhythm sometimes hard and sometimes soft. Cersei's tongue brushed along Jaime's lip seeking entrance and then his tongue. He returned the gesture and her mind was filled only with sensations and with this moment. When she was with him she felt _alive_ in a way she didn't at any other moment.

Her mouth broke from his with a soft sound. Jaime groaned in displeasure and tried to follow her lips but found his face buried in her golden curls as her mouth made its way up to his ear. He didn't mind and began pressing soft kisses down the line of her shoulder where her gown exposed skin. He pushed the edge of the cloak back to give him more access. "I'll never give you up, Jaime." She breathed against his skin. A shiver from Jaime and she felt him draw her into his arms, holding her against him in response so his mouth did not have to stop working over smooth, soft skin. When he reached the edge of her shoulder, he brushed his teeth over her skin. Cersei shuddered and tipped her head back as Jaime's mouth moved and kissed down her exposed throat as far as her dress would allow.

His hand moved up her side, fondling her, but frustrated both of them in finding so much fabric between them. There was something less exciting about feeling her breast through the fabric when he knew he could have so much more. A quick touch as they passed in the hall when that was all he could was enough to make him shudder, but not right now when he knew he had Cersei and could keep her until even past dawn while all of the castle slept off the revelry (and wine) they had consumed the night before. They could rarely be so free with one another as when the entire court was fêting and completely distracted.

Cersei was similarly frustrated when she wanted to get to Jaime's skin but there was none available to her. Her only option to access it quickly was reaching her fingers into the collar of his doublet at the back of his neck where she was finally able to reach some of his warm skin. Her fingers were like butterflies and she let out a sight of soft relief when she reached his skin even if it was only the back of his neck and a tiny square at that. She pressed her advantage by slipping her fingers down his back as far as she could reach, which wasn't very far given the collar was relatively tight.

Nonetheless, it still made a shiver run through Jaime's body giving Cersei great pleasure. She liked what she could do to him and being able to make him have such pleasurable sensations. It could be said that Cersei was selfish and spoiled, but not when she was with Jaime — never with Jaime. She was a sinfully good lover and so was he. Cersei was frustrated with not being able to reach any of his skin while he could easily reach hers. His lips were now working back up her chest and stopping to press the moist tip of his tongue into the hollow at her throat. Cersei tipped her head back further and Jaime laved his tongue in the hollow and then sucked on it gently causing a soft moan from Cersei. Here, she didn't need to hide any of her delicious sounds, for which he was grateful. He loved hearing her response to his worship of her body. He knew she enjoyed the same from him.

But dammit she wanted more of his skin than what she could get. She might have been briefly pleased with their fucking in the corridor, but it could not sate her fully, not the way she longed for. It was too quick. She could have it now though. Her fingers moved to the tiny buttons and the little loops of cord that held them closed. Deftly, she began undoing them one by one. She knew his body and clothing so well that the darkness of the unused great hall was not a problem for her. Blindly, Jaime began to work at the laces at the back of her dress in their complicated knots. It was difficult given he could not see what he was doing and his attention was given over to his ministrations all over her chest and shoulders. His mouth moved as she did. When she pressed him against the wall instead so she head more room to lean her head back and expose her throat for him while she still worked at his doublet. But this gave him leave to move his kisses up the side of her neck, up over her ear — and behind it — and even into the edge of her hair line and then, leaning over her shoulder, to the back of it, along the nape of her neck and her shoulder blade, which was as far as he could reach without being more successful with the fumbling at her knots far from complete — and then there would be a godsdamned corset too to contend with, but he didn't let himself think about that right now; if he did he might say 'to hell with it' and simply go ripping clothes to get them _off_. "This bedding is going far too slow." He grumbled playfully in Cersei's ear. He felt the soft laugh in her chest beneath his lips as he moved them back down from her ear.

"Less people than traditional," she pointed out. But at that moment she managed to free him from the doublet, which went spilling onto the floor. Then, her hands incessantly tugged at the hem of his shirt until she had it free of his belt and breeches. Jaime let out a soft, so soft, moan once Cersei's hands went beneath his shirt and traced over his flat stomach and muscled chest. He tipped his head back away from kissing her skin for a minute and panted softly in delight as her fingers worked across his already heated skin.

Cersei groaned softly and caught her lip between her teeth when she felt Jaime slip his hands between them as he went to undo the laces of his breeches. Inadvertently his knuckles grazed against her sensitive places and even through the cloth of her dress she was quite aware of it. She found herself press forward with her hips and then felt his stiff cock freed against her belly, only his smallclothes separating it from her. But she didn't touch him there yet. Not yet.

Finally free of the doublet and the constraint of his breeches, Jaime took Cersei's hand and pulled her a little way down the great hall, a few feet away from where his doublet had been left, but she stopped him and brought him near her to kiss, wanting to be pressed against his hard chest. She could feel how warm it was even through the fabric of her dress. Cersei wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ventured her fingers into the nape of his neck, twisting them in his golden curls and causing a soft groan from Jaime's lips and his eyes to close for a moment, his lips parted slightly before a soft smile lifted the corners of his mouth. She worked her fingers through his golden hair, just like hers as they kissed and he still struggled with her gown. She couldn't help but resist soft giggles against his skin as he fumbled, cursed, fumbled with the knots at the back of her dress. Eventually, Cersei took pity on him and turned so that he would be able to see what he was doing. Once that was achieved, Jaime's fingers were sure and capable and made quick work of the gown. No matter how beautiful it was, it was not as beautiful as Cersei's nude form laid bare for him. The gown slid down her shoulders and piled on the floor.

Cersei didn't let him get to the corset and he muttered a string of oaths again to which she giggled, slid from his arms, and ran a few more feet down the great hall. Jaime side-stepped the dress and hurried to meet her, grasping her hands when he reached her and kissed each of her knuckles before leaning to her ear and whispering, "Minx." He saw a corner of her lips rise in a saucy look that was completely irresistible to him and had to be kissed — and kissed well — and long. So, of course, he did. His hands were back to struggle in the same way they'd done with her dress at her corset, but she wasn't taking pity on him yet. Instead, she was running her hands up and down his back within his shirt. She moved her fingers against his lower back and Jaime let out a soft, wanton moan. Identically, both of them were incredibly sensitive to touch in that area. He knew all of the areas she was so sensitive in, and he knew all of hers just as she knew all of his. They seemed to communicate without a word exchanged between them as she tugged his shirt over the top of his head while he raised his arms to help her do it.

"This is not fair. I seem to be wearing significantly less clothing than you are." Jaime growled in her ear.

"What are you going to do about it?" Cersei asked, backed up a few feet from him as if she was about to lead him on a chase. His eyes flicked over her stance and he bolted toward her at the exact second she skidded along the floor and put a table between them, laughing with bright green eyes shining.

"This!" Jaime said. Before Cersei could have anticipated it Jaime half clambered and half leapt across the table and reached her, clasping her against him back to chest and surrounding her in arms of steel before burying his face downward as far as he could while holding her that way and kissing along her upper spine. Cersei fought against him, still giggling. "Nooo!"

"Yeesss." Jaime hissed, barely able to control his own laughter. "You said you would never let me go and now I will never let you go." He moved his mouth up the back of her neck, nipping her skin — not enough to leave a single mark but enough to make her freeze and then shudder flashing from hot to cold to hot faster than she'd have thought possible. Jaime brought his lips to her ear and whispered. "And now I am going to undress my bride and bed her."

Cersei had no breath from the running and laughing to get out a yes and so she just shook with mirth and nodded her head, pulling his arms tighter around her and leaning her head back over her shoulder to kiss him full and deep on the mouth. His movements were clumsy on the knots of her corset with his mouth busy with hers, but he couldn't seem to stop kissing her. Finally, he broke their lips apart and his fingers turned to her laces properly. When the corset dropped to the ground, Jaime moved his hands over her shift and each of them up over her breasts. It felt much better with only the thin layer of the single garment separating them from being skin on skin. His fingers left her shift with a groan of irritation from Cersei, and she realized it was for him to undo her golden belt, which soon joined her corset in a pile on the floor.

"All is fair in love and war." Jaime said, just as Cersei's hand went for his sword belt. With a turn, he bounded away from her, leaping over _two_ tables.

For a second Cersei just watched him with disbelief.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" His green eyes were positively dancing.

Cersei hissed with the ferocity of any lioness and ran around the long table toward Jaime. To her irritation, she figured out his game quickly even though she'd closed the distance down a single table. He was going in the opposite direction around the table. No matter how Cersei turned to run, Jaime would go the opposite way, and there was no way she could outrun him. She was tall, but not as tall as Jaime nor as fast. She thought quickly though and exclaimed, "This!" before leaping over the table, shift flying and hair coming down, just the way he had done.

She caught him by surprise and grabbed him, forcing her mouth to his in an almost bruising-hard kiss, and he returned it just as hard, pulling her against his chest where she felt just how aroused he was with his member pressed into her stomach. She ignored it for now. Even while they were kissing, her hands went down to free him from his belt. But when she released the belt, her hand slipped down, sliding her fingers along his smallclothes and feeling the heat and hardness of him. Jaime dropped his belt and heard the sound of his sword go spinning across the room and, honestly, could not have cared less right at the moment. He was more interest in fighting swordplay with their tongues as they were now.

"Godsdammit!" Jaime hissed as he tried to pull Cersei's shift up. For a second he saw a flash of her perfect breasts and then he realized the tie of the cloak would not allow the shift to come off. Their hands met at the knotted cord that held the cloak on her at the same time. Both were breathing hard. Green eyes met as fingers brushed together. They untied the cloak together and it dropped to the floor. But then they had to stop again and kiss.

And when they had finished kissing, Jaime turned in the direction of the end of the Great Hall and pulled Cersei a little further along. But then, once again, she stopped to kiss and touch him. And when she stopped, he decided to take advantage of every minute he could get to get more of Cersei's clothing off. He lifted her onto one of the tables. Her arms came tightly around his neck but she barely let out a gasp of surprise when he did it. She was used to Jaime's unpredictability by this point.

Her fingers tangled in his hair since it was all she could reach as he leaned down and slipped her soft leather shoes from her feet and tossed them aside with no care for where they went. He smirked at her as he leaned down to tug the ribbon that held one of her stockings up with his teeth and pulled it loose, tossing the offending sock aside before he was on to the next one. Once he had finished her stockings, Cersei tipped her head coquettishly. "Now who seems to be at a disadvantage?" Cersei asked, smirking. For, now, she only wore her shift and smallclothes.

Jaime gathered her into his arms and her legs instinctively and automatically went around his waist. Both of them groaned softly when her body came into contact with his open breeches and Cersei rolled her hips against him even though it was harder with him holding her. Finding the right angle, she arched her back and rolled her hips and sensitive woman's place against his cock "Fuck!" Jaime hissed low, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. The few thin layers between them did little to separate them or keep him from feeling her heat. Gods he just wanted to take her. But he had more self control than that.

He let Cersei down to her feet again to deal with his boots. He kicked at them in irritation and actually stumbled. Cersei giggled at him and Jaime stopped to undo them properly, tossing them aside. Cersei turned and made to flee playfully again, but Jaime grabbed her hand just in time and whirled her toward him, holding her close. He nudged her legs apart beneath her shift with his thigh causing a soft moan to spill from her kiss-swollen lips. The heat emanating from her was intense, and Jaime's movement brought the material of her shift and small clothes rubbing against her folds. Her arousal coated the fabric, showing Jaime exactly how much she wanted him. If only he could get a finger into her smallclothes despite her shift over it to slide between her folds, but that would be difficult. Instead, he pulled her against him again, kissing her and trying to guide her, without breaking their kisses, toward the edge of the great hall. They were drunk on kisses and struggling to walk straight.

Finally, they reached the edge of the hall and found that they had left a full trail of their clothing all the way across the floor. "Just like a proper bedding." Cersei murmured, smirking.

"Come, wife." Jaime whispered before kissing her softly on her lips. He savored the feeling of those words as did she, for it was probably the only time he would ever be able to say them — that night.

Cersei remembered this building from when large parties had come to King's Landing, and she knew which rooms were the nicest here and slipped her fingers into Jaime's steering him in the direction of one she knew he would like. Stumbling in the dark, she went to close the drapes at the window so he would be able to light a fire without them being seen. These tasks were delegated and communicated wordlessly the way they so often were together.

The room seemed cozy and like something Jaime would enjoy. It was all in deep, rich wood. Square patterns decorate the walls and thick ridged beams stood out against the ceiling while the floor was mostly covered by a huge damask and brocade carpet. An ornately carved wood and stone fireplace was set into the wall adjacent to the bed as was a window in a stone niche. Grey-blue brocade curtains could be pulled across. A massive four poster bed stood against the wall by the door. Its thick posts had carvings of different figurines carved into them. A beautifully carved headboard ran from the pillows up to the top of the posts. Bronze-Golden curtains with Myrish lace were tied back, but could easily pull around. Deliciously soft white furs covered a feather mattress. A velvet and damask settee was placed at the end of the bed so as to be able to sit and conveniently remove or dress in shoes and stockings. It was the same grey-blue accent color of the drapes.

Cersei stood behind Jaime as he kindled the fire and the room came to a perfect level of dim light. She let her hair down and sat her alabaster clasp on the tiny table by the bed. When Jaime stood and turned, he nearly stopped breathing. Cersei was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in that moment. He actually had to remind himself to breathe as his green eyes darkened and his cock twitched in want. Cersei was bathed in the light of the fire, hair tumbling free about her shoulders, wearing only her sleeveless shift and smallclothes. The shift was soft and thin. Captured in the soft light, he could see through her shift. Her breasts were soft and round, the perfect size for his hands and stiffened pink nipples showed through the thin fabric, just waiting for his fingers and mouth on them. The darkened area on her shift reminded him of how much she wanted him. A more green boy probably would have cum right then, but Jaime controlled himself; instead, he simply stared at her in wonder. Cersei seemed to know the effect she was having on him because she didn't move, just letting him drink her body in.

"Gods…" Jaime muttered, still just staring.

Cersei's slowly lifted a finger and crooked it at him, motioning him come to her. Jaime was only too happy to comply. He was with her in a second, crushing her against him and accosting her ready mouth with kisses — so many kisses. He felt Cersei's hands nimbly working at his breeches, sliding them down while her hands brushed over the skin she revealed, feeling his muscles flex beneath her touch and a pleasant shiver run through her body. When she was close against him, she could feel the heat of his chest and the firmness of his muscles. The feel of her hands sliding down below his back and her firm nipples pressing into his chest made him breathe in short pants. Cersei moved her mouth over his collar bone, sucking at it slightly where it jutted up. Jaime moaned. It was comical when she leaned down to try to take his stockings off but didn't want to stop kissing him to do it, but they finally managed it. Her hands worked around his hips, freeing the breeches further and his smallclothes along with them, loosing the cords that held them until both garments slid to the floor leaving Jaime naked before her. He was glorious: tall, lithe but muscled, his beaten-gold hair hanging in waves just past his collar, green eyes shining like emeralds in the sunlight.

And then he came to her. He kissed her softly and slowly and reached for her shift's hem. She lifted it and he skimmed it over her head. The warmth from the fire kissed her glowing skin and the feel of her bare breasts against his chest caused a pleasant little gasp. She felt his hands on her waist and a moment later her small clothes were the last to go, sliding down her legs to the floor. She stepped back long enough to kick them aside. Jaime had his turn at looking at her. He would never tire of looking at her. Long legs, curved hips, breasts sized as if they were meant for his hands topped by dusky pink nipples, a flat stomach leading down to the neat-kempt golden curls between her legs. Right now, they and her inner thighs were coated with gleaming want. He moved to take her to the bed, kissing her and pulling at the furs blindly, but Cersei stopped him. "Not yet."

Jaime let out a whine of slight frustration. He wanted her body — to touch and kiss it and fill her with himself so they could be whole. Neither of them ever felt whole without the other. "Cersei," he protested.

"Sit." She said, not even acknowledging his moan of frustration. She'd take care of it soon enough. She pushed him backward until he was sitting on the settee at the end of the bed. She grabbed a pillow and sat it on the floor as she sunk onto her knees between Jaime's legs, resting comfortably on the pillow.

It was only when she knelt that Jaime realized what Cersei meant to do and a soft but intense moan of desire and pure need slipped from the back of his throat. Jaime's whole body tensed delightfully when Cersei wrapped her fingers around him. She gauged how wet he was. Plenty. But because she knew he liked it, she reached between her legs and rubbed some of her own wetness across his cock.

Grasping his base with one hand and resting another on his knee, Cersei leaned up to him and slowly closed her mouth around just his head at first. She sucked and ran her tongue across his tip. Jaime tipped his head back and did not try to quiet the moan that ripped from his throat. Gods she was good at this. She had learned exactly what he liked. With the hand that gripped his base, she ringed her hand around it and slid it back and forth, liberally coating his entire length.

Meanwhile, her tongue slid back his foreskin the rest of the way causing Jaime to gasp out several short pants at once as Cersei gained access to the entirety of his head now and slid her mouth around it, brushing her tongue liberally along his skin. Almost before he could predict it, Cersei lifted her chin and slid his cock all the way in until her lips met his base in one swift motion.

"Fuuucck! Oh!.. Cersei! Oh…" The first word was drawn out and she loved the sounds of his pleasure and the pulsing of him inside her mouth and throat. "Oh.. Oh Cersei.. Please!" She knew what he wanted and slid her mouth along his length letting him go a little and then taking him back deep again as her fingers slid up to fondle his sac, feeling it swell and pull all the tighter in response to her gentle touches. The combination made Jaime moan again and again and his hands buried themselves in her hair as he tried not to push his hips up.

He was always thoughtful in that regard, never wanting her to take more than she was comfortable with. But she had perfected her ability for this and she urged his hips with gentle hands to move slowly so his cock slid up and down in her mouth and throat while she brushed her tongue around it. He let her guide his hips and she took him again and again, rewarding him by managing — somehow — to lick his sac whenever he moaned her name.

"Cersei! Oh.. Gods Cersei. Gods I love you."

His whole body was shuddering and moving and though she couldn't smile, she was pleased for she knew his words were for true and not something he simply said in the throes of his passion. She moaned from deep in her throat around him, the vibrations causing him to cry out once more. His fingers tightened in her hair hard and harder — but never painfully.

Cersei lifted both hands to rub his sac at once, working each side, rubbing her thumbs over them whilst her throat took and released him and he rocked his hips so very gently against her mouth, never losing control of herself or making this anything less than pleasurable for her. Cersei could feel her own climax beginning to build purely from hearing the sounds he was making, though she was able to hold it off with her focus on him.

Then, she used the spasms in her throat to tighten and relax around him deep inside her. "Cerrsseeeii!" Jaime moaned low, his voice drenched with need and want. And when she kept squeezing her throat around him repeatedly while rubbing her tongue along his underside Jaime started to moan constantly and uncontrollably. She could feel the very beginnings of the slight contractions from him that let her know he was close — very close.

His words confirmed it, though she didn't need the warning any longer. She knew his body so well. "Ohh… Cersei I'll… I… I'm… Close." He managed between panting moans, fingers completely knotted in her hair as he did his best to control his hips and keep them gentle. His entire body was shaking now and his toes curled tightly. She tightened around him again and applied even more pressure against him with her tongue. Jaime could hold back no longer. His climax was strong, taking him into its grips as he cried her name over and over and spent his seed down her throat in pulsing contractions of warm wetness that Cersei actually somewhat liked, liked the taste of Jaime. His climax was long and powerful, for which she felt proud, as he pulsed a few more times, each time filling her throat and being quickly swallowed down while she never freed him from her throat, just braced her fingers softly against his thighs.

She slowly began to let him slide more shallowly into her mouth as his orgasm ended, leaving tiny aftershocks in its wake. Cersei worked his length slowly through her lips until he wasn't deep in her anymore. Then, she sucked him gently through the aftershocks of his climax until he began to soften. Only when he was completely flaccid again did she slowly release him from her mouth.

"My Cersei. Oh…" He was still riding the waves of his pleasure; she could tell it from his blown pupils and shuddering body and rosy, sweaty skin. He slid backward off the settee and into the bed, pulling her up with him so he could wrap her in his arms. He kissed her mouth so very tenderly. She liked being called 'his'. He held her on his chest and pressed soft kisses on her hair, her face, her shoulders. He found her fingers and slid his own through them as he cuddled her against him and drew the furs around their naked, heated, shuddering bodies. "Gods… how do you do that?"

Cersei just smirked and kissed him soft and slow before she responded, "I just know what you like." Meanwhile their fingers explored each other's hair and faces and lips. Cersei pressed against his chest and wrapped a leg around his waist to bring them very close. They were on their sides, face to face, fingers still joined. It was her favorite way to lay with Jaime short of when he was within her. She would have liked that now, but knew he couldn't get hard again just yet. She settled for skimming touches over his skin and kissing him softly.

"You soon," He murmured. Jaime was a generous lover and was just as good at the things his did for her with his own mouth and hands.

"Soon enough." Cersei murmured. "We have all night to be wedded and bedded, my love." She joined her lips, warm and soft and slow, to his and didn't let the kiss break for a long time.

Jaime grinned and slowly turned onto his back and brought Cersei with him so that she was laying most of the way on him, her belly at his side, her legs loosely draped around his left thigh and his left arm wrapped snuggly against her while she rested her head on his shoulder in that place just beneath his neck that she liked so he could tilt his chin down and press kisses to her face and hair and she could tip her face up to kiss his lips. She felt his soft, warm hand on the back of her waist, holding her near to him.

She pulled the bed linens and furs warm around them just like people did when they bound up the bride and groom together in bed at their bedding. "We should do this properly now — being bedded and wrapped up and all." She said, her green eyes glinting with happy amusement.

"As my lady wife commands." He murmured, running his free hand through her hair and drawing her face up to kiss her softly and brush his nose against hers. "Gods I love you so much, Cersei." He murmured against her lips as the kiss broke.

"And I you." She murmured back, pressing her body all the closer to him. "You make me so happy, Jaime. I never feel truly happy or fulfilled when I am not with you," she said softly, letting herself be more vulnerable than she usually was.

"It is the same for me," He murmured softly, running his fingers up her back and kissing her forehead softly and then her beautiful blonde hair.

Cersei rested her face in the place she liked and rested one palm on his smooth, strong chest. In his arms was the place she felt the safest in the world really. That had always been the case. She remembered the hideous night when their mother had been in labor with Tyrion and her screams of agony could be heard throughout the keep, and Cersei and Jaime had hidden in each other's arms in Jaime's bed. She tried to shake the memory from her mind, not wanting to think about it right now. She cast about in her mind for something, anything to talk to Jaime about, but she didn't want to think of bad memories.

"Tell me about being knighted. About your battle with the Smiling Knight." She murmured, tracing soft patterns on his chest with fingers as gentle as butterfly wings. She had always been curious about his exploits as a squire whenever they saw each other — on the rare times they could. It was a true shame she could not have played at swords like him. She was so good at it when they'd been young enough to switch places and no one notice — right up until her body had betrayed her by flowering and growing breasts and hips. But he always indulged her in telling her all of his stories because at least that he could do.

"Hm.. Well Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur had the command. Arthur had convinced the smallfolk in the Kingswood to come over to us and no longer help hide the Kingswood brotherhood after Arthur intervened on their behalf with Aerys. He was brilliant in that. Once the smallfolk weren't hiding them any longer, we just needed to flush them out into the woods where we could fight them. We found them at dawn the morning the fight occurred. All through the woods you could hear the sounds of swords and bows and men crying out, falling back, surging forward. The sounds of _battle_." Few things heated Jaime's blood like battle — only Cersei, really.

"I was fighting someone. I got distracted by Big Belly Ben getting knocked down. That gave the Smiling Knight the chance to smash my helm into my face as I mentioned. That was also when I realized who he was. I held my own against him until Ser Arthur came and then I could see them fight and it was amazing." Jaime shook his head slightly. "Ser Arthur is amazing with a sword. The Smiling Knight said he wanted Dawn and Arthur said he'd have it then and killed him. That easy. I realized Big Belly Ben had cornered Lord Sumner and was about to take his head off. I intercepted them and I… guess I saved Lord Sumner. I fought hard with Big Belly Ben and was going to kill him, but he escaped into the woods. I wanted to go after him, but Ser Arthur stopped me. The battle was won. We'd catch up to him later. They said I acted the part of a knight rather than a squire."

Jaime's face was flushed with pleasure even know, recalling it, and Cersei thought him incredibly handsome. She listened intently.

"Then Arthur asked permission from the others to be the one to knight me, though I didn't quite figure out what he was asking for a minute. So then I knelt right there on the battlefield. And then there are seven 'charges' one for each face of God. And each one he touched Dawn to my shoulder while he said it."

"What are they?" Cersei asked. She knew perfectly well the knightly vows, but some part of her just wanted to hear it from Jaime.

"Mm.. In the name of the Warrior to be brave. In the name of the Father to be just. In the name of the Mother to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid to protect all women. In the name of the Smith to remain steadfast. In the name of the Crone to accept wise counsel. And in the name of the Stranger to never forsake the vows and uphold them until the end of my days. And will I before the Seven and these good men accept the charges as my sacred vows. And then I said I would. Then, Ser Arthur said on the acceptance of these vows that he created me Ser Jaime Lannister and raised me to my feet and everyone cheered. It was perfect. The only thing I'd have changed was if you could be there."

Cersei's lips quirked in amusement and leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "But I am here now. And because you are a knight and have your freedom, I will be here with you forevermore. When you are Kingsguard we shall never have to be apart again." She breathed in his ear. "In a few weeks you will be back here in white. It will be years for us to have before Viserys comes of age — as that's likely what Father has in mind. We can see each other every day. We can sneak off. We can make love as often as we… mmm!" Cersei went silent, and an approving, soft gasp spilled from her lips as she felt his cock, pressed against her lower stomach, start to harden.

"Ahh.. My body betrays me." Jaime murmured, "Just when I was enjoying hearing about the amazing life you were creating for us."

Cersei just smirked, "Yes, but you like the betrayal." She said, slowly shifting her hips so her stomach rolled along his length causing Jaime to press his head back against the pillows, eyes closed, and part his lips in a silent moan.

"Perhaps I do." Jaime managed, though he still didn't open his eyes.

Cersei shifted further over the top of him, linking her leg over his other hip until she was able to roll her hips and bring their most secret places together. She did not take him inside her yet. Instead, she teased him, sliding her hips along his while Jaime made soft sounds of pleasure and Cersei felt the ache, once again, begin to build inside her the way it had been a little while ago. But it was such a good ache. And soon, he would satisfy it. Soon.

For right now Jaime had other ideas. Wrapping his arms around Cersei, he rolled them until she was on her stomach and he was over her. Cersei couldn't resist a little shriek of surprise when he rolled her unexpectedly and she found herself on her belly with Jaime's weight over her. It was comfortable and soothing, grounding to have Jaime atop her. He always gave her just the right amount of weight. Sometimes, he enjoyed taking her from behind — admittedly she enjoyed it too. But she didn't think that was what he had in mind tonight.

Instead, she felt him lift onto his knees straddling one of her legs in the same manner she'd been doing to him, though she didn't think it was by design but had just sort of happened. She wasn't complaining, as it would give her a chance to feel him stiffening against her as he became more aroused. Jaime leaned down and very slowly brushed his tongue along the base of his spine. Then, he slowly began to trace his tongue and lips all the way up her spine toward her neck. Just him doing that alone was enough to make Cersei pant and gasp a little and clench her fingers in the bed linens tightly given she was quite sensitive there. When Jaime moved his tongue back down her spine and added tiny scratches with his teeth Cersei wriggled beneath him and let out soft, plaintive, breathy little moans. God, the things he did to her!

Cersei felt Jaime pull her onto her side with her back facing him. One of his legs came to mingle between hers. He leaned down to continue laving his tongue, teeth, and kisses all along her spine and up the back of her neck as his hand slipped over the round curve of Cersei's hip and up the flat of her belly until he was able to cup one of her breasts in his hand at the same time as licking her sweaty skin. Cersei moaned and writhed softly in his arms when he run his thumb all over her nipple and made it stand stiff and hard while his mouth continued to pay homage to her spine where she was so sensitive. It felt like the Seven heavens, if they existed, when Jaime continued to hold her breast in his hand and stroke and play with it while at the same time his free hand ran through her hair "Mm! I" she tried but quickly lost her words and was back to thinking about his hands on her.

His voice worked its way up until his mouth was brushing his tongue and kisses now all around and along her neck and jaw and ear and he whispered, "Touch yourself, Cersei. Touch yourself like you like me to touch you. Like you did while we were apart and thought of me." He knew she must have because he could not count the number of times he had pleasured himself and thought of her.

A soft mewling gasp escaped Cersei's lips at his instructions. Oh Gods. Yes, she enjoyed doing what he asserted, but it was something entirely more erotic to be told to do it in this situation. "Just.. Just don't.. Stop." She managed. When she slipped a finger to part her swollen, sensitive folds she found she was already soaked with desire — even more than before, in fact. Her finger dipped inside her folds and began to rub soft circles around her opening for a while before she felt Jaime's hand catch hers and gasped as he brought her fingers to the sensitive pearl above and guided her fingers rubbing it. Cersei's reaction was a silent howl of desire, lips parted, eyes screwed shut, toes curled as Jaime helped her stroke herself.

At some point, her fingers fell away to grasp at something and only his remained to tease and love that glorious cunt of hers. Slowly, he continued to ring her opening, slip up to brush her sensitive places, slip his finger inside her a little ways. He knew all the things that drove her crazy and was doing so many now — like how his voice breathed warm puffs of air on the back of her neck as he whispered things to her: "Gods you are so beautiful, Cersei; I want you to come for me, My Cersei; You're so wet"

But he was a tease. When she was close, he didn't let her finish but, instead, brought her to turn over to face him and guided her fingertips into his mouth: tasting her and relishing. It was like some strange mixture of salt, Valerian steel, and oyster the way it's served on a half shell. It was _Cersei_. And it was perfect. He sucked her fingers in and out of his mouth for a long time while he held her against him. Cersei reacted by reaching down to rub herself again, but Jaime just smirked and took her hand away "Mm mm. You're going to come for me when I'm inside you." He breathed in her ear, grazing his teeth along it and catching its lobe in his teeth.

Cersei moaned outright then. "You're … that's not.. Fair you're.. I want. I need. You.. That's…" She was adorably mixed up in trying to express herself. Jaime loved when she got like that, so desperate and in such a state she couldn't even think straight.

"Soon enough." He said, moving to pull her swollen lower lip between his and kiss her with their tongues dancing together, tracing, touching, loving. He ran his hands up and down her sides. This time he was in a position to slide his thumbs over both breasts at once, pressing into them just a little bit as he slid and pressed over each of those glorious mounds a couple of times while Cersei made desperate, soft moans into his mouth while he kissed her.

He felt Cersei hook her knee over his hip to bring them closer until her breasts were flush on his chest and her hot, moist center was against his own stiffened cock, pressing it between them as she began to slide along his body, rubbing them together again and again until both of them were panting and moaning. "Remember…" She gasped. And she didn't need to explain because they were so connected. How they had done this as children before they realized it did anything but make them feel tingly and nice indeed. He nodded between kisses and breathily, chuckling, leaned in for another deep, passionate kiss.

He turned her to her back again and began to lick and tease at her spine all over as Cersei moaned in desperation and began to try rubbing herself against the linens for friction as her hands were grasping the edges of pillows too hard to touch herself for relief. She wanted, no _needed_ him in her. And she was so godsdamned close! "Jaiimmeee" she hissed in some drenched combination of abject need and desperate, angry frustration. But it would be worth it. When he did this to her it was always amazing after.

She panted and kept brushing against the linens, but when Jaime thought she was too close, he stilled her hips, grinning as he was continuing to explore her skin with kisses and tongue. Cersei moaned low in her throat and struggled with the heat and ache, the good sweet beautiful ache in her center that she needed Jaime to fill. "Please!" She begged him. "Please, Jaime. Please." Cersei hated begging because it made her feel weak — but she didn't mind it with Jaime.

"Mm yes, yes, yes." He responded back once for each of her pleases, eyes dancing but still dark with desire just as her own were.

Slowly, Jaime moved Cersei onto her back and and slid between her legs, their eyes never losing contact with each other. It only seemed fitting on the night they had married in their hearts to be together again the way they were their very first time. His thumb brushed her red, swollen lips and she took it in, sucking it just slightly. She smiled up at him with such a sultry smile that, had he been less in control of himself and not already had his pleasure twice this evening, might have finished him off then and there.

He covered her and then leaned to take her lips with his own as he spread her folds gently with his fingers and slid himself slowly but steadily inside her until he was all the way and both of them moaned at the moment he joined her and then a second time when he was finally deep inside her with their bodies so close, limbs tangled, lips meeting and not parting. For a moment he was so happy to be in her and Cersei was so happy that the ache, that sweet desperate ache, was satiated that neither of them even moved, just gasped and adjusted to the pleasure sweeping their bodies.

Finally, since everything in him was yelling to, Jaime moved causing twined gasps again once more. He felt Cersei's fingers clench hard around his shoulder blades — hard enough there would be bruises like her fingertips in the morning, and he didn't mind at all. The look on her face was exquisite and matched the sensations she only had with Jaime. There was a sense of both physical and emotional fullness that was more rewarding that anything else. The sense of the two of them connected in every way and become one. A soft shudder went through her as she pressed her forehead against the front of his shoulder, tightening her fingers even more and began to press her hips up toward his, meeting his movements with her own. He liked when she moved with him. Cersei could hear slightly more ragged gasps each time she moved.

She pressed soft kisses over his heated skin and brushed her tongue over his collar bone and then began moving her kisses up his neck and jaw. One of her hands worked its way up the back of his neck and knotted in his hair. Jaime always loved when she played with his hair just as she loved when he did it to her. He was so warm against her and like something intoxicating — something she couldn't get enough of. Something she couldn't hold close enough even if every inch of their skin was flush against each other. Her whole body had begun to tremble as her back arched against his again and again. Instinctively, her foot moved along his leg as their lips met again and Cersei lifted her ankle around his lower back allowing him to sink still deeper inside her. She tipped her head back and whispered his name — more than once. She linked her other ankle around him too and felt him press the hand he wasn't using to support himself beneath her lower back, lifting her arching toward himself as her skin turned rosy and warm, close once more. He caught her lips and kissed her in one of the times her face rolled back and forth on the pillow.

He was faster now, but still steady. Her own motions were starting to be more desperate and a little less controlled. He changed pace, staying not as deep and letting her have more of his weight then shifted upward. Cersei felt her head swim and black start to gather before her eyes as she let her legs fall apart for him and his movements softly upward against her brought him rubbing against her most sensitive areas. It only took a few movements to leave her body shaking, her toes curling against arched feet and her breathing completely uneven.

When his fingers slipped from her back and moved along her side and cupped her breast at the same time and his tongue slid against hers, he sent her spiraling into darkness where her heart beat in her ears and her vision was hazy and blurred. Everything was taste, touch, sound. Everything was amplified and there were no thoughts — only feelings. Waves of pleasure washed over her again and again until they finally left her still shaking, clinging to him, face pressed against him and fingers in his hair and on his back. It was strong, just as their love was strong.

His movement slowed but did not cease. He had her close against him and didn't intend to waste a moment that he could last. He waited only long enough for her to stop shuddering quite as badly before he returned to the slow, gentle up and down motion against her most sensitive places while his fingers continued to explore her even though he knew all of her. He didn't need to exp lore because her body was like a novel read a thousand times but never less thrilling than the first. And altogether forbidden, which made it all the more desirable. His mouth dipped to meet hers and he lost himself in their kisses and movements.

It was only the next time that he felt her start to shudder harder and felt the waves of her clenching around him to near pain — but delicious, sweet pain — that he finally allowed himself his own end. There wasn't much, which was his only regret. He loved the sensation of filling her with all of himself — though he had done so just earlier that evening in the corridor. And then it had been a lot.

Slowly, he lowered the two of them properly back to the bed and rolled to his back so he could hold her on his chest. Her hair was damp with sweat and he brushed a length of it out of her face with gentle fingers and a soft smile on his lips that matched her own. "Well, now we are wedding and bedded." He pointed out, green eyes dancing.

Cersei's fingers drifted lazily to caress his cheek, run a thumb across his desperately swollen lips, and move along the back of his neck to pull his lips to hers for another, slow, deep kiss. "We are." She confirmed. "You are mine and I am yours." He pulled her to his side and cuddled her close.

"You are mine and I am yours," Jaime echoed back softly, cupping her cheek.

Cersei turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm.

_A/N: _

_If you're still with me, thank you SO much for reading. If you have time, please leave a review as they help my muse! _

_I was considering a friend's comment that it was sad that they didn't realize it would all fall apart. They're so young and have such optimism, but of course we know from Jaime's account in SoS how Tywin reacted to Jaime's nomination to the Kingsguard. It's occurred to me that I would really like to see a story in which Rhaegar does not die in the Battle of the Trident. Jaime wanted to go with him and Rhaegar told Jaime that when he returned things would be 'different' If Rhaegar and Jaime remained friends and he assumed the throne and Tywin was somehow out of the picture, Cersei never would have married Robert. And were Rhaegar to learn about Jaime and Cersei, I highly doubt he would be as concerned as everyone else whose last name isn't Targaryen. I wonder how their relationship might have continued beyond Bound if that was the course of events to play out. _

_YES ! I am absolutely hinting at a sequel! _

_However, going that direction is likely going to produce a much longer and more complex novel with a lot of other content that well go well beyond just Jaime and Cersei. I also want to read Fire and Blood and everything else I can about the Targaryens before I undertake plotting for that kind of work. So, what that means for you, lovely readers, is that there's definitely going to be a sequel in the works, but it's probably not going to be around for at least a few months. I owe a fic challenge — That will be Jon Arryn/Lysa (… not being crazy) and of course have King of Winter to work on in the interim and I've been toying with a Sansa/Willas idea for even longer than Bound has existed as well as researching. BUT if you are patient long enough, there should eventually be a sequel to this branching off into that AU idea._

_Goodnight and until next time, dear readers!_


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